Little Match Girl
by dushkuhasdibs
Summary: Circumstances lead Emma to move in with Regina and Henry, and the unexpected attraction between them stresses their current relationships. At the same time, someone is targeting Storybrooke's children. Cannon/spoilers through 3A, altered 3B (no Zelena complications). This story is complete, a little over 50k words, chapters to be uploaded 1-2x per week:) SwanQueen
1. Chapter 1

Emma accepted the shot of whiskey that Ruby slid across the counter at her. "It's on the house," Ruby winked.

Emma smiled in thanks and downed it, then held out the glass for another. Ruby shook her head. "That bad?"

The sheriff sighed. "I don't want to say that; I'll feel awful if I say that, they're my family. I love them and I never thought I'd have them."

"But…?"

Emma swirled the amber liquid in her glass. "But I wasn't counting on sharing a loft with parents the same age as me and my newborn baby brother. I love them so much but…"

"It's a lot."

Emma nodded and sipped her drink. "And what about Henry? I want him to be able to stay the night when he wants to, and we're pretty much bursting at the seams."

Ruby wiped down the end of the counter. "Your parents must have noticed as well."

"They have. They've talked about finding a larger home for all of us, but…I think I'm the one who should move out. They've got a baby and I've got to figure out things with Henry and…and…"

"And you need space for that."

Emma groaned and put her face in her hands. "Does that make me an awful person?"

"Of course not. Things are complicated for you guys; if you don't do what you need to do to make things right for yourself, you're going to hurt more people in the end."

"I guess I just don't want to hurt Mary Margaret and David again." She took another sip and Ruby put a comforting hand on her arm.

"Hey. They have baby brain right now. They might think they want a huge house with everyone under one roof but really? They want to sleep. They want baby Neal to be ok. And they want to sleep some more. They might protest when you tell them, but they'll be fine."

"You're probably right." Emma sighed and looked at Ruby. "It's ok to say it's weird, right?"

Ruby grinned. "Yup."

"Oh thank god," Emma said. "Because it's weird, Ruby; sometimes it just is."

Ruby topped off her drink. "I'll talk to Granny about a room for you if you'd like; I'm sure we can have something ready for you as soon as you need it."

"I'd appreciate that."

Her friend went off to take care of other customers. As Emma nursed her drink she felt as though she could breathe for the first time in days. Moving out was definitely the right thing to do; her feelings about her family were too complicated, and having a new baby brother named for Henry's father wasn't simplifying anything. Her heart ached when she thought of Neal; she was so grateful that her son was able to meet his father, and that Neal had clearly loved Henry without a second thought. Her mind danced around what could have been if only…well, if only so many different things, really. And what was the use of that kind of thinking? A room at Granny's would help; when these kinds of thoughts entered her mind they appeared on her face, and Mary Margaret couldn't resist asking if Emma was ok, and while she loved her mother she needed space to have her emotions come up without being watched and worried about and analyzed. Sometimes feelings just needed to be felt and allowed to be.

Emma absently registered the sound of the bell on the diner door, signaling the arrival of yet another customer.

"Mom!"

She had barely turned around at her son's voice before he had thrown his arms around her, as though they hadn't just seen each other that morning. She smiled and held him close before noticing Regina standing stiffly behind him; only then did Emma realize there was still an empty shot glass next to her drink.

"We're here for milkshakes," Regina said. "Clearly we've had a better day than you."

Emma's cheeks colored as Henry asked, "Is everything ok? Is Neal sick or something?"

"Everyone's fine," Emma assured him, "Regina just meant that…well…you know what, why don't you tell me about your day with your mom?"

Henry beamed. "It was great. I helped her take care of the apple tree and we spent almost the whole day baking."

"Ah yes, I'd forgotten about Regina's skills in the kitchen. I'm sorry that's something else you missed out on while we were in New York."

"It's ok," Henry said. "We're back now, so I can be at my mom's house whenever I'm not with you guys."

Emma's eyes flew to Regina's. "Henry…maybe we should…"

Regina put a hand on their son's shoulder. "Henry, if you would be so good as to order for us; I need to speak with Emma for a moment."

Henry looked between the two of them and decided not to argue; he went off to a booth as Regina took the stool next to Emma's. Since they had returned to Storybrooke and regained their memories, the two women had not discussed what to do about their son. Emma braced herself; she knew that Regina had raised him, and legally adopted him, and that she was lucky to be in his life at all. But she had also spent the last year believing she had never given him up, and while those memories were false, the feelings were real. When Henry didn't remember Regina, Emma was able to live in their fantasy world awhile longer, but now…

"Regina, I…"

"Please don't take my son from me," Regina whispered.

Emma blinked in surprise. Now she saw the emotions the other woman was struggling to contain, the fear and the worry in her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play with me, Emma. I know you want Henry to continue living with you, and I know you're a part of his life now, and I want you to be because it makes him happy, but…" Regina took a breath to calm herself. "But…I miss him. Terribly. Without Henry living with me, my home and my heart are empty. I don't want to lose him, and I don't want to become the 'sometimes' parent. He's all I have."

Emma took a drink, and noticed Henry watching them. She tried to keep her face neutral, even though her heart was aching. "Regina…I'm not going to take him from you. The only reason I've gotten to know him, and love him, and be any kind of a mother to him at all is because of you. I know we didn't expect that when we met, but, it's the truth. I mean, you literally gave me time with him, time that I didn't have." She saw Regina's defenses drop, the other woman's relief apparent. Emma sighed. "But we do need to figure out the best thing for him, not us. And maybe we shouldn't try to do that tonight, when I've been…well." Emma gestured to her drink. "And when your milkshake is waiting for you."

Regina covered Emma's hand with hers in a surprising gesture of warmth. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"Would you like to join us? Maybe order something to balance out the whiskey?"

Emma gave a small smile. "That's probably a good idea."

Regina slid into the booth next to Henry while Emma settled across from him; within minutes Ruby had delivered a pile of French fries for the sheriff while the others downed their shakes. Emma cleared her throat. "So kid. The plan is for you to stay with your mom tonight, right?"

"Well yeah," Henry said happily. "If that's ok."

Emma saw Regina's face fall just a little and said, "Hey, you don't ever have to ask if it's ok to stay in your own house with your own mom, Ok?"

"Oh sure, I just thought that with the baby and everything the more people that can help the better!"

"That's really sweet of you Henry. And actually…" she briefly weighed the value of having this conversation with her son before broaching the subject with her parents. "Actually things at your grandparents' apartment are a little complicated and we're going to try to help make it a little better."

Henry's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Well…I think it's getting a little crowded, which can be more stressful than helpful, so I've talked to Ruby about getting my own place."

"What?"

"With room for you of course," she hurried to say, "For whenever you want to stay with me." In spite of what she had just said to Regina, Emma barreled ahead before she had time to change her mind. "And it's up to you of course, but with so much up in the air, I feel like it would be best for you to go back to living at home with your mom."

Now it was Regina's turn to blink in surprise. "Emma…"

"So," Henry said quietly, "you don't want to live with me anymore?"

"What? No! Henry…" Emma reached out and held his hands. "I really, really do. And so does your mom. You have two moms who love you and want to see you all the time, but right now one of them is prepared to focus on you and what you need, and the other needs just a little more time to actually get settled in Storybrooke. I never really have, you know, and I think it's past time."

Henry nodded. Regina put a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Does that sound ok with you Henry? Would you mind living with me again?"

"Oh mom, of course not." Henry wrapped up his mother in a hug. "I love you. I just wish I could live with you both all the time. Hey!" He sat up straight and beamed at them. "What if Emma comes to live with us?"

Regina almost choked on her milkshake. "What?"

Emma immediately pictured living in a place where she couldn't muss the furniture or leave a toothbrush out or even let her head leave an indentation on the pillow when she slept, not to mention enduring death glares from Regina every time she hugged her own son, since the woman clearly was still insecure about her place in Henry's heart. "Henry…that's maybe not the best…"

"It's perfect," Henry chattered, his milkshake momentarily forgotten. "I'd get to see you both all the time. Mom can make breakfast, and Emma can take me to school in the sheriff's car. I can go to Mom's office and we could swing by the police station on our way home to see if anything exciting happened, and we could all have dinner together."

"Henry," Emma said with a glance at Regina, "your heart's in the right place, but that has the potential to be even more complicated than how we're living now."

Regina finally managed to find her voice. "Sweetheart, that's an awfully large change. Emma just told you she needs to actually settle in Storybrooke, and I…I just got you back. Maybe you're better than us at handling things like this, but Emma and I…"

"…we are two people who handle change really, really badly," Emma finished.

"But," Henry said softly, "we're a family."

"Absolutely," Emma said, "and we want to keep our family intact. Can you honestly imagine me sitting across from your mother over dinner, discussing my workday?"

Her son shrugged and went back to his milkshake. "Not really. No."

Regina leaned over and kissed his head. "You are a better person than all of us, Henry. Adults tend to…overcomplicate things. We'll all be closer, just like you want. It just won't happen by tomorrow."

Emma stared at him with concern. "Did I ruin your evening out?"

Henry shook his head, and Regina shot her a sympathetic glance. "We still have a movie to watch when we get home," she said. "I don't envy you the talk you're going to have with Mary Margaret and David."

Emma groaned and wished she had chosen a more out-of-the-way place to have stopped for a drink.

…

Later that night, Regina stood in her son's bedroom doorway and gently asked if he wanted to talk about what was bothering him. He had barely paid any attention to the movie and hadn't said more than a few words to her. "Are you angry with me?" she asked.

Henry sat up in bed and hugged his knees to his chest. "No."

Regina perched on the end of his bed. "Are you sure?"

"I'm not mad at you Mom," he sighed. "I promise. It's just…for a second, I guess I _could_ imagine you and Emma having dinner together. You don't hate each other anymore, and there aren't any crazy curses going around. Things are quiet. But Emma said no so fast, I guess I was kind of surprised. And hurt, I guess. It's stupid."

He looked so sad, Regina's heart ached for him. At times it seemed like her son was growing up so fast, but then moments like these reminded her that he was still her little boy. "Your feelings aren't stupid, Henry."

"Do you think it was dumb to ask Emma to live here?"

She considered her answer carefully. "No. I think it was kind and thoughtful. But…neither of us shares very well, Henry. And people who can't share shouldn't live together."

He looked puzzled. "But you guys share me."

Regina put a hand on his. "Not well enough. But I promise that it's something Emma and I are going to work on, together. Because we love you." She gave his hand a squeeze. "Do you believe me?"

"Yeah." He suddenly scooted over and threw his arms around her neck. "I missed you, Mom."

Regina closed her eyes against the flood of emotions caused by his simple words; she held him close. "Oh Henry, I missed you too."

An hour later, Henry had finally drifted off to sleep and Regina stared out her front window, glass of wine in hand. She had felt so embarrassed and exposed earlier, essentially begging Emma not to take away her son; her cheeks felt hot with shame when she remembered it. But then Henry had given his other mother the perfect chance to swoop in and interfere with their lives, and Emma didn't take it. Regina sipped her wine. Maybe there was a chance things would be better sooner than she thought.

She frowned at a sudden movement in the bushes out front. She squinted and looked again; someone was definitely out there. She set her glass of wine on a table and opened the front door to get a better look; her eyebrows jumped up in surprise and worry hit her stomach. "Emma? What on earth are you doing here?"

Emma sheepishly came around the corner with her hands in her pockets. She looked disheveled. "I needed to walk. I spoke with my parents, and things went about as well as I expected. They'll be fine, I just…well, I needed to walk. So." She looked up at Regina. "I honestly didn't mean to walk here."

Regina crossed her arms. "I guess I should take some comfort in the fact that you don't appear to have an overnight bag with you."

"Oh, no, of course not! No that's not what I…" Emma ran a hand through her hair. "Ruby already got me set up at Granny's; I can stay there tonight and move my stuff over tomorrow. They work fast. I just didn't like how I left things with you and Henry. Is he all right?"

"He will be." Regina took in the other woman's appearance. "Are you?"

"Not really."

They stood in awkward silence for a while before Regina forced herself to invite the sheriff inside. "I've got a good bottle of wine open and it shouldn't go to waste," she explained.

They sat in the soft light of the kitchen. "Henry is asleep, right?" Emma asked. "I don't want to upset him anymore."

"He is," Regina said as she poured the other woman a glass. She considered her words. "I promised him that we would work on this; he was mostly hurt that we found the idea of the two of us acting like a family to be so ridiculous. We've both learned to be possessive, for very different reasons, and sharing a child is…difficult. We need to be able to trust each other if this is going to work."

"I trust you," Emma insisted.

Regina looked at her, hard. "You do?"

"Well. Most of the time." Emma sipped her wine and took a deep breath. "When it comes to Henry's safety and well-being, then yes. Yes I do."

Regina set her glass down on the counter and looked away. "I suppose I'm afraid that you still expect me to be the evil queen. That at any moment you and our son will decide I'm the bad guy again and…I wouldn't even get to say goodbye."

Emma nodded. "Well then…I'm afraid that your fear will make _you_ vanish with Henry."

They sat contemplating each other in silence then, letting their admissions resonate. Regina thought about her son sleeping upstairs, and how she and Emma were having a discussion just how Henry hoped they would, and they had thought him so foolish for it only hours ago.

"I don't think of you as the evil queen," Emma said quietly. "I'm not going to turn on you, or let our son turn on you. And if you can believe me, then I won't worry about you vanishing with him."

Regina took a deep breath before looking Emma in the eye. "I do. I believe you."

"Ok then." Emma raised her glass. "That's a really good start."

They clinked glasses and drank. Regina felt tears of relief dancing in her eyes but wouldn't let them fall.

Emma sighed. "It's late; I should go."

For half a second Regina considered inviting the other woman to stay in the guest room, but decided that would definitely be confusing for Henry. "Would you like me to drive you back?" she asked.

"No, thank you. The walk will still be good for me." She looked at Regina. "I'm really glad we had this talk."

"Me too." Regina walked her to the door and held it open. Emma hesitated in the doorway as though she were going to say something else. "Yes?"

But she just nodded. "Good night, Regina."

...

A week passed, and so did Mary Margaret's initial outrage at having her family move out. It was apparent that Henry could only benefit from NOT bouncing from home to home, and with a new baby in the house the Charmings had to acknowledge that their baby girl was, well, actually an adult with her own child. Though reluctant at first, they had to admit the change was for the best.

In the meantime, Emma was already feeling the bite of loneliness in her new apartment.

"You could have stayed with me on my ship, lass."

Emma leaned back into Killian's arms; the gentle rocking of the Jolly Roger wasn't devoid of comfort, certainly, but…. "Yes. It's such a great place for my son to live as well."

Killian frowned. "But he's with Regina now. If he's safely tucked away what's stopping you from hopping aboard?"

Emma turned to look at him. "Are you serious? Do you not know what that would look like to a twelve-year-old boy? What it would look like to _anyone?_ Like I moved out of my parents' house and unloaded my son on his other mother so that I could mess around with my boyfriend on his _pirate ship."_ She shook her head and stood up. "I'm trying to be a better mother, Killian. Sharing Henry after this last year with him, knowing it was a year of…of make-believe, is hard enough. I want to do what's right for him without making him think I don't want to be with him every single day."

"That's not what I—"

Emma didn't wait for the rest of it; she stormed up onto the deck, with Killian calling after her.

Should she have put up more of a fight for Henry? Didn't she have the right to raise him too? Would he think she didn't care enough? She leaned over the side of the ship, her stomach in knots. Emma cared so much it made her sick, but…fighting about Henry wouldn't be fighting for him, it would be a fight _over_ him. She couldn't do that to her son, or to Regina for that matter. His adoptive mother wasn't the woman Emma thought she was when they first met. Henry was _their_ son, and they had to agree not only to put him first, but to put each other second. They had to trust each other to keep their complicated little family intact.

Emma took a deep breath, allowing the cold, salty air to calm her. She felt Killian's hand on her own. "I'm sorry," she said.

"I'm the one who needs to apologize, love. You're right. I was being selfish."

Emma held him close. "I do wish I could stay here and be your pirate wench. That would be fun."

He grinned. "In many, many ways."

She smiled, closing her eyes. "Yes. But I've already made all of the mistakes that come with that type of life. I'm not twenty anymore."

"No. But…you're not against visiting, are you?"

She tilted her head back and kissed him lightly. "Certainly not."

"Would you like to continue visiting tonight?"

"Very much so." They started to walk back below decks.

...

"Any chance you'd allow us to walk you back home?" Robin lifted Roland up onto his shoulders, much to his son's delight.

Regina smiled. "How about to the Charmings? I have to pick up Henry—he had dinner with his grandparents tonight."

Robin bowed as best he could and gestured for Regina to lead the way. "You should be commended on your co-parenting skills."

"How do you mean?" she asked as she laced her fingers through his; Robin's other hand was firmly on Roland's leg, keeping him securely in place.

"You've been through so much with your son; you even gave him up for a year. And now you seem to share him so easily…I'm not sure I'd have that kind of strength."

"If it seems easy it's not. And I certainly didn't 'give him up,' I protected him. That's what parents do."

"I didn't mean to offend you. I'm sorry."

She softened. "I know you didn't. I'm still just…waiting for the other shoe to drop, I suppose. I'm so happy to have Henry home, but we have a much larger family now and it's wrong to keep him shut away. I have to trust that he loves me, and trusting isn't my strongest suit."

"But this is Henry you're talking about. Isn't he the truest believer?"

Regina sighed. "He certainly is."

They turned the corner to the Charmings' street. "And isn't Emma supportive of you too?"

"I suppose so, yes." She felt his gaze on her and relented. "Yes. She is."

"And do you trust her? As part of your family?"

"I'm learning to. She's given me every reason to, certainly."

They stopped in front of the Charmings' and Robin stood so he was facing her. "It's ok to be happy, Regina. Really."

She smiled. "I know." She leaned in to kiss him; Roland giggled.

"That's enough out of you," Robin said to his son with mock-seriousness; he gave Regina another brief kiss before saying, "Have a wonderful night, milady."

Regina watched as he walked back the way they'd come, chatting and laughing with Roland. Her heart swelled, but that feeling was quickly followed as it always was with a quiet melancholy: loving people always worked out even worse for them than it did for her. Regina couldn't help but dread the day it would all come crashing down.

"Regina?"

The queen turned to see Mary Margaret in the doorway. "Would you like to come in?"

Regina blinked back to reality. "Yes. Thank you."

"Is everything all right?" Mary Margaret asked gently as they made their way upstairs. "You seem preoccupied."

"No more than usual, I can assure you."

"All right." Snow stopped at the door; she seemed to be searching for the right words. Regina waited, intrigued, until the other woman finally said: "Henry seems really happy to be back home. With you. From a mother to a mother…I thought you'd want to know that."

Regina's eyes welled up unexpectedly and she blinked the tears away. "Thank you," she whispered.

Mary Margaret put a hand on her arm and led her inside.

...

 _"But why can't I go with you?" the little girl asked._

 _Her voice was so small, her mother could barely hear her from her place by the hearth. She turned to face her daughter's bed and spoke with warmth. "Because you are sick, my darling."_

 _"But I could ride in the cart with the candles. I can bring lots of blankets. I won't be any trouble."_

 _Her mother sat at the edge of her bed and put her cool hand to the child's feverish forehead. "You are never any trouble. But it's much too cold to risk taking you with me. I don't know what I would do if anything ever happened to you." She tucked the blankets a little tighter. "You will stay here with your grandmother, dry and warm. You'll have broth…and cookies."_

 _The little girl blinked sleepy eyes. "Cookies?"_

 _"Has your grandmother ever forgotten to bring you cookies?"_

 _A tiny smile. "No. Never."_

 _"Never." She leaned over and gave her a kiss. "And when I get back, you'll be all better, and you can help me make the next batch of candles."_

 _"Really? You'll show me how?"_

 _"Yes my love; I think you're old enough now to learn the little bit of magic our family's been blessed with. What do you think?"_

 _The little girl sat up and threw her arms around her mother. "Yes!"_


	2. Chapter 2

"Let me guess—pancakes and hot chocolate," Ruby said with a smile.

Henry looked hopefully at his mother. "Oh fine," Regina sighed. "But Ruby, if you could scramble some eggs on the side so I can _pretend_ it's not a sugar bomb, I'd greatly appreciate it."

"You got it."

"Thanks Mom," Henry grinned.

"Don't get too excited; tomorrow I'll have time to make breakfast."

"I like that too."

Ruby set a hot chocolate in front of Henry, with a little cinnamon as always. "Will you guys be at the fish fry tonight?"

"What?" Henry looked at his mother with wide-eyed excitement. "There's a fish-fry tonight?"

Regina glared at Ruby, who slunk away. "Yes. It was going to be a surprise…but I imagine all of the kids will be talking about it at school anyway."

"Awesome!"

"Hence my earlier morning—I'm meeting with the harbor crew to make sure everything's running smoothly."

"That means the fishing ships are coming in today!"

Ruby delivered an unasked-for cup of coffee for Regina; when she caught the waitress's eye Regina could see the coffee was both an apology and on the house. She nodded her thanks, and softened.

"Yes, they should be in this afternoon."

"Can we go watch?"

"And miss school? I don't think—"

"Good morning!"

Emma Swan plopped into the booth next to Henry and gave him a huge hug.

"Mom! There's gonna be a huge fish fry later and the ships are coming in _today."_

"Oh, is _that_ what the harbor master wanted some police muscle around for? The crowd at the show?"

"Yes!"

"Sounds exciting. Morning Regina."

"Miss Swan."

Pancakes and eggs were delivered for Henry, a coffee-to-go for Emma.

"So can I go too?"

Regina stiffened, but before she could speak the sheriff heaved a sigh. "Well here's the thing: I'm a detective, right? And I'm seeing how excited you are and how formal your mother's being, so I'm thinking you're already in negotiations with her about that, and I don't want to interrupt."

If Regina had been drinking her coffee she would have spat it out in surprise.

Henry looked from one mother to another and decided it was a good time to start eating his pancakes.

Regina considered the sheriff. "Are you headed to this morning's meeting as well?"

"Yup. Do the police really need to be there for a fishing boat?"

Regina smiled and sipped her coffee. "Hardly. I imagine any officers would merely add flash. The boats do draw a crowd, believe it or not. The kids love to watch thousands of fish spill out everywhere." She looked at her son's hopeful eyes. "I suppose leaving school a little early wouldn't be the end of the world."

Henry beamed. "Thanks, Mom."

"Sounds like fun," Emma said. "And what about this fish fry?"

"It's like a big cookout at night in the center of town. Granny has a whole army of cooks!"

"I think we should go," Regina said.

"We have to!" Henry said around a mouthful of pancake.

"No, I mean…I think the three of us should go, together." She saw Emma's eyebrows go up and rushed to add, "It seems we're only together when something is going wrong. It would be nice to do something right."

Emma stared at her for a moment. "I'd really, really like that," the blonde sheriff said quietly.

Regina shifted under her gaze, not knowing why she was suddenly uncomfortable. She glanced at the clock. "I should get going. You too, I suppose."

"Yeah," Emma said, ruffling Henry's hair. "You need a ride to school, kid?"

Henry poured more syrup on his pancakes; Regina tried not to outwardly cringe. "Nope. Gonna walk."

"If you can, after all that." Regina leaned over and kissed his head. "One of us will pick you up later."

Emma flashed her keys at Regina. "Want to head over together?"

Regina raised an eyebrow. "Not in that bucket of bolts, thank you. We'll take my car."

…

The harbor master in Storybrooke was a grizzled old man named Ben who was very, very proud of his job. "So the _Triton_ and the _Neptune,_ they'll be in in a few hours. The way they dock you'd think it was magic. We'll keep the onlookers on that dock over there; easy to see the show but then they won't be underfoot. The crews have a lot of work to do in a short amount of time."

Emma surveyed the harbor, trying to see anything she hadn't noticed before; it had become a much more familiar place since she'd started spending time with Killian. "And…you want five police officers here."

"Oh at least! We've got to make sure we're prepared for everything."

Emma must have had a look on her face because Regina placed a hand on her arm. "How about this, Ben," the mayor said. "We arrange for there to be two officers, but you get the best ones: Sheriff Swan and David Nolan. Do you think that would suffice?"

The harbor master was obviously pleased, but tried to play it off. He lifted his hat and scratched his head. "Oh! Well…if that's all that you can spare tonight, I guess…well heck, I guess I'd be honored to have you here, Sheriff." He shook Emma's hand, his grip strong.

"Do you have any other concerns I could help you with?"

Emma turned away as Regina discussed things like schedules for the coming weeks, and renewing fishing licenses and repainting the ships; her gaze fell on the Jolly Roger, where Killian was working on the deck. He smiled when he saw her watching him and gave a wave. She waved back, lost for a moment in a memory of tangled sheets and lantern light, passion and submission.

"Sheriff?"

"Yes?" Emma said, a little too loudly. She colored as Regina stared at her in amusement.

"Shall we head back into town? Or would you like me to leave you here for plundering?"

Emma's mouth fell open. _"Regina!"_

The mayor crossed her arms, victorious, and raised an eyebrow. To Emma's utter embarrassment, she could hear Killian making his way along the docks to them.

"Hello love! And Madame Mayor," he said with his biggest smile. "Are you making arrangements for tonight?"

"Some of us are," Regina said; Emma wanted to drown.

Killian didn't notice. "Excellent! Do you already have a date for the fish fry, or may I escort you?"

"Oh! Actually, I do have a date, I'm sorry."

Killian tilted his head. "Who's the lucky chap?"

"Regina." Emma grinned at the look on his face and added, "We're taking Henry together."

"Ah, I see. Not that I wouldn't be supportive if the two of you had…other plans. Eh?" He wiggled his eyebrows. Emma rolled her eyes.

Regina seemed less amused. "I'll be in the car, Swan."

Emma sighed and turned to the pirate. "Could you ever be a little more refined? Please?"

"You wouldn't like me if I were. Besides, you started it." He kissed her cheek. "You're not staying, then?"

She ran a hand along his arm, imagining it wrapped around her. "No. Work to be done."

"All right." He placed a finger under her chin and looked into her eyes. "I won't interrupt family time, love, but I will be there tonight. I'll wait for you to come to me; I wouldn't want to tread on your date's toes."

"You wouldn't." She kissed him. "Even at a fish fry I imagine those toes will be in expensive shoes."

"Until tonight, then."

She walked back to the car a little peppier and slid into the passenger's seat. Regina wasted no time: "I don't see the appeal, Swan."

"I know you don't."

"Surely you'd like to be in a relationship with an adult one day?"

Emma studied the other woman as she started the car. "What's it matter to you?"

"Only that you don't seem to like men who like to own homes: one has a boat. One lived in your car. All of that sounds quite adventurous to Henry I'm sure but I hope you've told him it's not right."

"Hey! Where did all that come from?"

Regina turned the car onto the main road and grit her teeth. "I don't know."

Emma rolled her eyes and looked out the window. She knew Regina was lying, but she didn't know what her problem was…especially considering Regina's boyfriend lived in the woods, but Emma didn't think bringing that up would gain her any points. To her surprise, Regina pulled the car over on the side of the road and cut it off; the mayor kept her hands on the steering wheel and her eyes on the road. Finally Regina spoke:

"Henry was excited to go out tonight as a family."

The veil lifted, and Emma understood what Regina seemed unable to say to her. "You think I invited Killian to go with us."

"Didn't you?"

"No," Emma said gently.

They sat in awkward silence for a few moments until Regina opened her door and got out of the car. Emma watched her in the rearview mirror; first she stood in the road, then walked into the brush with her hands on her hips before ultimately sitting on the trunk of the car. Emma waited until it looked like Regina was staying there before she opened her own door and joined her.

"Regina…am I doing something wrong?"

"No," the other woman said sadly. "I'm just realizing how bad I am at this. Trusting people."

"If it's any comfort I suck at it too."

"No," Regina said, "you don't. You don't automatically think the worst about everyone that crosses your path. You don't decide…" The mayor stopped; she didn't start again.

Emma nodded and stared down the road, content to wait for Regina as long as it took.

When she had first come to town, Regina had always thrown her for a loop. She was intimidating, for one; the mayor had adopted her _son_ , and seemed to have her whole life together while Emma's life had always been such a mess. Discovering Regina had actual powers had made her frightening as well, though Emma would never tell her that. The mayor…the _queen_ …never played defense, only offense, and always with the intention of ending the game forever. Emma had spent so much time trying to keep up that she never dreamed they'd be where they were now: caring very much that they didn't hurt each other. Emma knew now that while words were some of Regina's favorite weapons, they were actually not her strong suit; the woman was all action. It was how she really showed her love.

Emma thought they might be the same in that way.

She placed a hand on Regina's back; dark eyes turned to look into her own. "I'm sorry," Regina said.

"You're not going to scare me away, you know. I get you, Regina."

Regina cleared her throat and pulled her coat a little tighter around her thin frame. "Yes. I think you do." With that the mayor stood up and went to get back into the car. Emma shook her head, a soft smile on her face, and followed.

…

The excitement at the docks was above and beyond what it should be for fishing boats, Emma decided. While the _Triton_ and _Neptune_ were impressive vessels, large and weather-beaten with a seeming tangle of nets that were, in reality, immaculately kept and tangle-free…a closer, unromantic study revealed ships that looked like they'd already sunk at least once. Perhaps the sheriff was used to the bright paint of Killian's ship, but to her the fishing vessels looked like ghost ships; they were grossly out of place at the docks, and belonged far out at sea, forever. The thought made her shiver.

It appeared she was the only one disturbed by the ships, however, as practically every child in Storybrooke waved at the fishermen and cheered as thousands of pounds of fish were hauled in.

Her father clapped her on the shoulder. "It's more about the ceremony," David said, reading her mind. "And you know everyone in Storybrooke loves a good ceremony."

Emma smiled at him. "You guys really do live for them."

He nodded. "It's a build-up to the party tonight. The kids run around with sparklers or play games while the adults make batch after batch of fish 'n' chips. It's kind of an unplanned holiday, which boosts the excitement factor."

They wandered closer to the crowd. Once the fish were taken from the ships, Ben turned on the hoses for the fisherman: the kids all shouted and cheered as huge bursts of water shot across the ship decks, blasting the bulk of the grime back into the sea. Emma saw Henry tugging on Regina's sleeve and pointing at the ship; she had to laugh at the look on the mayor's face, one she recognized as barely contained revulsion. Whatever it was Henry was asking her, Regina nodded her consent. The fishermen opened a gate, and all of the kids rushed onto the ships, Henry with them, much to Emma's horror. She excused herself and ran over to Regina, missing the knowing grin on David's face.

"They go _on_ the ships?"

Regina held up a hand. "Trust me, I'm as thrilled as you are. Despite the fact that it looks like they both sank yesterday, the ships are incredibly safe. Repulsive, but safe."

They both watched their son climb all over the rigging with the other children, as fishermen and women helped them up and showed them any part of the ship they wanted to see. Most of the crew was busy dealing with the fish that now needed transport. Regina had arranged three large trucks for them, and all was running smoothly. It was another half hour before things started to die down, and Regina waved for Henry to climb down and return to shore.

"Wow!" David exclaimed. "You are _gross."_

Henry was grinning from ear to ear. "I was exploring."

"Did you have fun?" Regina asked.

"YES!"

"Wonderful," the mayor said, placing a gloved hand on his shoulder. "Then that will make up for the stink you're about to unleash in my car, and the bill I'm going to get from Michael when I drop it off for cleaning tomorrow. Let's go home and get changed."

Emma felt a small pang at the thought of returning to her own apartment without them. She pushed it away. "I'll see you tonight, then?"

"Shall we pick you up?"

Emma blinked. "Oh, I didn't…my place is so close I figured I'd just walk there."

Regina crossed her arms. "Yes. And shall we meet you? To walk you over?"

"Oh." Emma looked from Regina to her son. "I'd like that."

"Wonderful." Regina glanced down at their happy, stinky child. "Let's go."

Emma watched as they climbed into the Mercedes and pulled away; she zipped her jacket a little tighter against the sudden chill.

She drove back into town with David, who dropped her off at her apartment before continuing on home to Mary Margaret and baby Neal. Emma climbed the old, worn steps to her place, turned the old-fashioned key in the equally archaic lock, and pushed inside. A shower would help.

…

 _Once the snow started to fall, it blanketed the forest in less than an hour. Alta had to stop the cart several times to reset her crates (so they didn't freeze together) and brush snow from her horse's back, eyes, and ears. "We'll make it, old girl," she soothed the creature. "The village isn't much farther now. It just feels like it." She climbed back into the cart, pulled her coat tighter, and they pressed on._

 _Another hour brought another two feet of snow, but also the warm glow of a tavern in the distance: they were almost there. Alta jumped out to lighten her horse's load, and also to help lead her through the last leg of their journey; many branches had fallen that needed to be cleared away, and the snow also hid holes in the path. Alta didn't need her gentle mare breaking a leg tonight._

 _After what seemed like an eternity, they reached the tavern. Someone had seen the always-burning light of her lantern and sent people to assist her. They were quickly brought to the stables, her cart stored, and her wares unpacked and brought back to the tavern, where most of the village had gathered for the storm. She was greeted with a bear hug, courtesy of the tavern's owner, a large burly man named Scott. His wife, Jonna, was almost as large—her hug was second._

 _"We were afraid you wouldn't make it!" Scott boomed._

 _"I said I would be here, so I'm here, and it looks like I'm right on time."_

 _Jonna placed a bowl of soup and a tanker of ale next to Alta. "Eat," she commanded her friend. Alta kissed her on the cheek and didn't argue (most people tended not to argue with Jonna)._

 _A man lifted the first crate onto a table and pried it open, to the cheering of everyone around. The crate was packed to the brim with large, thick candles—Alta's candles. The money started to flow, and Jonna and Scott collected it all for her so she could eat and rest; she was eternally grateful. She always gave the tavern owners an extra ten candles, on the house, in case there was an emergency in town._

 _Alta's candles sold themselves in weather like this, because they couldn't be blown out. They could be knocked to the ground, thrown across a room, taken through the forest with the wind howling to the point it would knock a man over…and the flame would shine, tall and bright. The only way to extinguish the flame was with water—so when someone had a journey to make, perhaps in the dead of winter, to check on a loved one, one of Alta's candles was in their lantern._

 _They were life-saving._

 _Two more crates were opened, more money exchanged, more ale drunk. Alta was finally starting to warm up. She would stay a night or two, until the storm passed._

 _Jonna pulled up a stool next to hers. "And how's your little Katie?"_

 _"She's a little sick right now, just a cold. You know little ones."_

 _"Do I," laughed Jonna. As if on cue, her five boys went charging past._

 _"She'll be all right though. She's with my mother, eating cookies and reading stories. Much better than being out in this."_

 _"Ah, I bet you tried to convince her of that."_

 _Alta dipped some bread in her soup. "I did. She was convinced she was missing a grand adventure, when she's only missing the chance to catch her death."_

 _"Nothing like a little one who knows it all."_

 _Alta smiled, thinking of her daughter's bright eyes and independent nature. "Nothing like it. She's quite smart. I've promised to start teaching her our magic."_

 _"Can you do that when they're so young?"_

 _Alta nodded as she watched a fourth crate being opened. "You can. Little things of course, but enough so that it becomes familiar to them, and less overwhelming later."_

 _"Well," said Jonna, draining her own mug. "Two candle makers of your caliber can only be a blessing."_

 _"Thank you."_

 _One of Jonna's sons grabbed a large candle and held it up over his head. "I say we light one now, in celebration!"_

 _Scott shook his head. "You don't want to waste 'em, lad!"_

 _"Just for a minute, Pop!"_

 _Scott waved at him to go on. The boy looked around for a light, and reached down into the crate for a box of matches. When Alta saw the black box he pulled up she was across the tavern in a second, smoothly taking it from his hand and replacing it with another. "These are much more reliable," she assured him. He grinned and lit his candle, much to the joy of everyone in the room._

 _Alta was the only one whose smile faltered, taken aback by her own carelessness, and distracted by what could have happened._


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Hope you enjoy:) Thanks to everyone for reading and following! This is a shorter chapter, but longer ones follow.

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"Would you mind if we used your bathroom?" Regina asked when Emma opened the door. "Someone didn't think to go before we left."

Emma ruffled Henry's hair as he raced inside; she pulled the door wider and welcomed Regina in.

The mayor took in the single cup coffee maker, unused. She noted the jacket slung on the back of a chair, the lone plate in the sink. The décor was Granny, not Emma—the furniture was all deep brown or grey, the blankets and curtains non-descript and in equally muted shades. Regina saw the bed pillow on the couch and frowned. "You sleep on the couch?"

Emma stared at her blankly. "Well…yes."

"Why? Isn't this a one-bedroom?"

"The bedroom is for Henry."

Regina fought to maintain a neutral expression. "Of course." Of course Emma, not wanting to be guilty of abandoning her child again, would keep the bed ready and waiting at all times for him, even if he only used it once or twice a week. She was punishing herself, whether she knew it or not.

Fortunately Henry returned from the bathroom before things could get uncomfortable. "Ready!" he declared.

"Great," Emma said as she grabbed her jacket off the chair, "because I'm starving."

Regina could smell the park before they could see it—an incredible blend of woodsmoke, salt fish, grease and fries. When they turned the corner, the full splendor of lanterns, sparklers, and colored flags was revealed.

Beside her, Emma was staring wide-eyed. "Oh wow. This is awesome."

Henry grabbed Emma's hand. "Come on!"

Regina watched the two of them run off; she honestly couldn't tell which of them was more excited.

"You have a lovely family."

She turned to see Robin approaching, fish 'n' chips in one hand and Roland tucked up on his hip with the other.

"So do you," she said, then kissed him. "Roland, how do you like the party?"

The quiet little boy smiled and nodded his head. "Oh good," Regina said, "I'm glad to hear it."

"Would you care to join us at a table?"

"I would, but we promised Henry it would be just the three of us tonight."

"Not a worry," Robin said, "though…shouldn't you be off playing with them?"

Regina bristled at the suggestion. "I don't…I don't really play. That's more of an Emma thing."

Robin nodded and lowered Roland to the ground; his son immediately raced off. "All right then." He put his hand on her cheek and kissed her once more. "Have a wonderful time." He went after Roland, who had joined a group of kids playing soccer. Regina recognized Jefferson's daughter, Grace, as well as Ava and Nicholas, Michael Tillman's children. Her own son was now standing with Ruby over a grill, monitoring the hot dog option for younger kids.

"Does this mean I won't be the only one making dinner anymore?" Regina asked once she'd made her way over.

"Hey," Emma protested, sparkler in hand. "I cook too."

Regina raised an eyebrow. "Not for us. Nor will you until you realize that 'cooking' and 'heating' are two different things."

Emma made a face. Regina reached out for a hot dog with a glance at her son. "Did you make this one?"

Henry cocked his head. "Don't you want fish?"

"I want whatever you're making."

Henry grinned and handed her a hot dog. "Wait!" he said; he grabbed a bottle and squeezed a strip of something on top.

Regina furrowed her brow. "What is that, mustard?"

"Cheese!"

Regina blanched and Emma laughed: "Dig in, your majesty."

The mayor looked from one bright-eyed face to the other and sighed. "You both delight in torturing me, don't you?" Mother and son said nothing, only looked at each other and smiled. Regina closed her eyes and sank her teeth into the cholesterol-trap her son had created. She had no idea if it was cooked well or not—all she could taste was gluey processed cheese product. "It's…it's lovely," she managed.

Henry laughed. "You don't have to eat it, Mom. But thanks for trying."

Emma clapped a hand on her back. "Granny's got the fish. Come on." To her surprise, the sheriff linked her arm with hers; Regina stiffened at the unexpected contact, but allowed herself to be led across the park. When they reached Granny's station, the older woman didn't hesitate to hand Emma a basket of fried fish overflowing with chips. Any other night, Regina might have made another crack at the sheriff, but tonight…

Granny held out another basket. "And you, Madame Mayor?"

Regina reluctantly released Emma's arm in order to reach for her meal. "Why not? It smells marvelous."

"A hot dog _and_ fried fish? What's happening to you?"

"Quiet, Swan." The mayor inhaled the tantalizing aroma and smiled. "Make yourself useful and find us a table."

Emma did, and soon the two of them were sitting across from each other, enjoying their meals in comfortable silence and waiting for Henry to join them.

A flash caught Regina's eye—the pirate's hook. The man attached to it was on the other side of the children's soccer game, talking with David and Mary Margaret. Regina's mood darkened.

"This is incredible," Emma raved. "I never really got to go to anything like this before."

Regina watched as Hook and David engaged each other so easily in conversation; Mary Margaret was laughing at something they said.

"Regina?"

She turned her attention back to the blonde in front of her. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"I was trying to say thank you; this is a wonderful festival, and coming here as a family…well, it's really nice. Thanks for suggesting it."

Regina felt warmer inside than she had all night; she suddenly had trouble meeting Emma's eyes. "You're welcome." She didn't know why she was so flustered, but she didn't have time to dwell on it as their son crash-landed with his own fish 'n' chips in the spot next to Regina. "No hot dog?" she asked him.

He shrugged. "I just wanted to make them. I'm here for this." He stuffed chips in his mouth.

Emma threw a napkin at him. "If you keep eating like that, Regina's never going to let you stay with me again. She'll think I've been a bad influence."

Henry gave a sly smile. "That's not true. We're not like that anymore."

Regina immediately felt guilty about all of the fighting they'd done over him in the past; she shared a look with Emma and placed a hand on her son's back. "You're right. We're not."

As the night wore on, the soccer game came to an end, and the fires and grills were extinguished or shut down. While the adults helped with packing and cleanup, a new game emerged in the park—flashlight hide-and-seek. Emma "joined in" as a way of keeping tabs on the children. Regina sat on a picnic bench at the outskirts of the game, another set of eyes to ensure that no one decided the woods at night would be the perfect hiding place.

The youngest children were soon carried home, asleep on their parents' shoulders, grubby and happy. Roland, however, was sleeping on a folding chair while his father built a fire. As the remaining children realized what was happening, hide-and-seek was abandoned and they started grabbing sticks instead; cries of "S'mores!" echoed throughout the park. Regina met up with Emma, who handed her a stick of her own.

"I assume you're going for the nutritional gold tonight, Regina."

"Well I've come this far. I might as well."

Hook was manning the crate of s'mores supplies. "Miss Swan, Madame Mayor. Lovely to see you both this evening."

Regina quickly gathered what she needed and joined her son at the fire pit. Henry was roasting three marshmallows at once. She speared her lone marshmallow on her stick and held it over the flames. While her son practically thrust his in the fire to see if they'd catch, Regina turned hers slowly and thoughtfully. She tried not to look at the pirate and the sheriff but found she couldn't help herself. They kept grinning in the way new lovers do. When Emma leaned in and kissed him, Regina turned away. Her marshmallow had caught fire.

"That's ok Mom," Henry said around the mess of his first bite. "They taste better that way, I promise."

"Is that right."

Henry put his own treat down to make hers for her. She took a messy, sticky bite.

"See?"

She chose not to spit out a mouthful of crumbs by answering, and nodded instead.

Emma plopped down next to Henry and stuck her stick in the flames. "How often do the fishing ships come in, and can we do this every time they do?"

Regina swallowed her bite. "Every few weeks, and sadly no. But we do end up doing this a couple of times a year."

"Excellent," the blonde said as she crushed her blackened marshmallow between two graham crackers.

As Henry polished off his second s'more, he turned to his mother. "We probably have to go soon, don't we?"

Regina smiled apologetically. "You do have school tomorrow so, yes."

"Ok."

She looked at Emma, who was no longer looking at either of them; the sheriff ate quietly and stared into the fire. Regina's thoughts turned towards the lone plate in the sink and the pillow on the couch.

"Why don't you stay with us tonight?"

Henry's face lit up, and unless she was mistaken Emma's did too. But she also seemed a little confused. Regina shrugged. "It's been such a wonderful night. Why stop it now?"

"Can we watch a movie?" Henry asked.

"Regina…are you sure? I mean I don't want to…impose or anything like that."

"Well, you were invited, so you're not. Besides, don't you want to?"

Emma hesitated. "…Yes. I'd love to."

Regina felt a rush of satisfaction. "All right then. Henry, think of a movie on the way back to the car. Emma, you think of a wine—I'm sure I'll have whatever you select on hand. Let's go."

…

On the other side of the park, one of the townsfolk assisting with cleanup had witnessed happy families all day long. At first it had been painful to tolerate…but it quickly morphed into an itch that had to be scratched. An obsession.

But it wasn't until the sight of the queen with her son that something reached down deep, deep inside, found the last thin thread of sanity, and snapped it.

…

As soon as they got to the mansion Regina sent Henry upstairs to take a shower, then turned to Emma. "Well? What's your selection?" she asked as she removed her coat and scarf.

"Oh! Um…Cabernet," Emma said, unzipping her own jacket as she followed Regina to the coat closet.

"Hmm. Wait right here."

Emma stood with her hands in her pockets. She wished she could say she felt comfortable enough to make herself at home, but she didn't. The mayor's might imprinted itself on every wall, every light fixture. Regina's mansion was a fortress, albeit a beautiful one, that broadcast her confidence in her powers to those who would doubt her. It wasn't the place to kick off your boots and flop on the couch. However, the kitchen was the one room that always felt a little more…warm. The last time the two women had had a drink together, they'd been in the kitchen; they'd opened up about their fears and promised to trust each other there. It's where Emma decided she'd wait now.

Her eyes wandered to the rows of jars labeled flour and sugar, to the various spices and herbs ready to go into some culinary masterpiece. Emma leaned against the cool granite countertop and glanced out the window. A light snow had started to fall.

"There you are," Regina said, brandishing two wine glasses and a dark bottle. In no time she had removed the cork and poured a glass for each of them. "Let it breathe a bit; this is one of my favorite vintages and it's always better with a just a little bit of a head start."

"Thank you."

"Would you like anything else? Cheese? Fruit?"

"Oh no, I'm so full from the fish fry, thank you. This…this is great, really."

Emma suddenly realized she didn't know what else to say to the other woman. Small talk with Regina seemed ridiculous, there was no impending disaster to discuss, and Henry was fine. All good news, except the sheriff was now at a loss. It was little comfort that Regina seemed to be feeling the same way. Emma cleared her throat. "Well, I hope we get better at this."

"Better at what?"

"Relaxing. We're not that great outside of chaos, you and me."

Regina smiled. "No, we're not. The wine will help—you know what, I'm sure it's breathed enough." She raised her glass; Emma did the same. "To a wonderful night of our weird little family."

"To family." Emma sipped her wine; it was magnificent.

Henry came bounding into the kitchen, clean and in pajamas. "Movie time?"

He sprawled between the two of them on the couch in the living room, and for the next hour they were subjected to a faceless beast destroying New York from the perspective of a hand-held camera. Fortunately it was only for the hour, as Henry had fallen asleep to the sounds of explosions and screaming. He was out cold on Emma's shoulder; she glanced at Regina, who shook her head at their son. The mayor cut off the TV, and Emma was able to rouse Henry just enough to send him shuffling upstairs to bed.

"I'll find you something to wear," Regina said, vanishing up the stairs behind him.

Emma found herself drawn back to the kitchen and its little window. She still had half of her second glass of wine left. As she watched the snow falling, she was overcome with the need to see more, and made her way to the back porch.

The backyard was covered in a layer of snow so thin it looked like frost. The trees glittered in the soft light from the porch.

Lost in her own thoughts, she didn't hear Regina join her outside until the other woman spoke. "You don't have to stay out here—the guest bedroom is much more comfortable, I can assure you."

Whether it was the wine, Regina's kindness, or the way the whole day had gone, Emma suddenly threw her arms around Regina and held her tight. The other woman went rigid at first, but then softened; Emma felt herself being hugged back. After a moment, they parted.

"Your…um…I-I left some pajamas for you on the bed," Regina stammered.

Emma nodded. "Do you need any more help down here? Cleaning up?"

"No, thank you. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Regina."

Emma slipped inside and up the stairs to the guest room. A pair of blue silk pajamas was folded neatly on the bed. Emma shook her head, a soft smile on her lips—no sweatpants and baggy tshirt tonight, of course, not in this house. She left her own clothes neatly on the chair by the window; pajamas in hand, curious, she looked out the window and down into the backyard.

Regina was still on the porch.

….

Regina stood outside with her eyes closed, letting the snow cool her skin, until the ache in her heart and the urge to follow the sheriff upstairs and check on her just one more time subsided. The desire to hold her again, and to be held by her, was surely a result of the Cabernet, and Regina wasn't about to have wine be the reason she lost her senses completely.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Aaaaand we're off...Thanks to my sweet reviewers :) And thank you all for reading; I hope you enjoy how things unfold (and unravel).

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Emma awoke to the smell of eggs and bacon, the only thing that could have roused her from the plush pillows and blankets that made her feel like…well, like a queen. She could hear Henry and Regina talking downstairs and she very much wanted to join them; she put on her clothes from the night before, made up her bed as best she could, and stepped into the adjoining bathroom to splash cold water on her face and run a hand through her hair. It was as fresh as she was going to get.

She made her way down the staircase; by the time she got to the kitchen a mug of coffee was waiting for her. "What service!" she mused. "And from a queen, of all people."

Regina chose to ignore her teasing. "Did you sleep well?"

"Oh god, that was possibly the best sleep I've gotten in my life. Those pillows are unbelievable." She wrapped her hands around the mug and inhaled happily.

Henry was shoveling eggs into his mouth. "Can we finish the movie tonight?"

Emma tousled his hair and grabbed a slice of bacon. "One thing at a time, kid. Breakfast. Then school. Then figuring out what the day brings."

Regina turned to her with a plate. "Is that enough for you?"

"Oh I'm ok with bacon, thanks."

Henry sighed. "Wow Mom. Wrong answer."

Emma sipped her coffee and stared between the two of them. "What? What'd I say?"

Regina set the plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of her. "Yesterday was bad enough, nutritionally-speaking. Today we all have a decent breakfast so we have any hope of making it through the day without developing a health condition."

Emma raised her eyebrows. "Thanks Mom."

The mayor topped off her coffee. "Thank me later, when you don't crash before noon."

Henry flashed Emma a knowing grin; she returned it, and ate her breakfast like a good house guest.

"All right," Regina said as she hung up her dishtowel. "Let's be ready in ten minutes; we have several stops to make before I drop off the car to be cleaned."

The three of them bundled into the Mercedes, which definitely still smelled like the docks, though maybe not as badly as Regina made it seem. Emma's apartment was the first stop; she waved her goodbyes until the car turned the corner to head to the school, then she sighed and headed upstairs. After a brief shower and quick change of clothes, she got in her trusty VW bug and headed to the station.

"Any repercussions from last night?" she asked her father as she sat at her desk. "Any, I don't know…drunk driving or s'mores ODs?"

David smiled and drank his coffee. "Doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. It's been a quiet morning."

"Good." Emma looked through the small stack of papers on her desk and found a few minor things that could stand her attention. She grabbed her pen and got to work, but after only a moment she stopped, looked at her father and said, "How are you guys? How's little Neal?"

David smiled warmly. "Well, we miss you of course. But we're well. Your brother is mostly sleeping through the night for now so your mother and I are at a really grateful point."

"I'm glad to hear it."

"And you? Is your apartment still…?"

"It's fine," Emma said quickly. "And Henry's doing well with Regina. Actually, after the festivities last night I…well I stayed with them. It was kind of a…mother-mother-son thing, I guess."

"That's wonderful! Henry must have loved it."

"Yeah. He did. And you know something, I really did too. I was nervous at first, since we'd never done anything like that. But it was really, really great."

"Good. I'm so happy for you. Maybe we can all go to dinner sometime soon and catch up."

Emma smiled. "Absolutely."

She was distracted by the sound of a siren going past the station—an ambulance. She and David shared a look of concern—there was only one hospital in Storybrooke, and therefore only a couple of ambulances. Whoever was hurt was probably someone they knew. Emma grabbed the keys to her squad car. "I'm going to see what's going on."

She saw the ambulance continue down the main road and peeled out after it. As she followed every twist and turn a feeling of dread came over her; they were headed towards the school. "No no no no no," she whispered. "Please no." The ambulance did, in fact, stop at the school. Emma pulled over across the street and jumped out, careful to stay out of the way of the paramedics even though her heart was practically pounding out of her chest. She ran over to the principal. "What's happening?"

"We don't know," she said helplessly. "Grace just collapsed."

Emma closed her eyes and calmed her breathing; at least Henry was fine. She pushed her way into the school past worried students and teachers until she got to the medics, who were trying to get any kind of a response from little Grace.

Nothing.

"She's alive," one of them said. "Let's get her on the stretcher and get her out of here. One, two…" On three they moved her, and just as quickly as they'd gotten in they were trying to get out. Emma helped clear a path back to the ambulance; when they drove off she went back inside and found Grace's teacher.

"Did she fall? Has she been sick?"

Her teacher shook her head. "No, nothing. She was reading a book at her desk and then fell to the floor. I'm sorry, I have to get back in to the other children, they're so worried."

"Of course." Emma frowned. Healthy and happy children didn't just collapse. She drove over to the hospital. Once Grace had been assessed in the ER she was given a room; by the time Emma found it Jefferson had already arrived and was at his daughter's bedside, holding her small hand and whispering assurances that everything would be ok.

Emma stopped the nurse as he was leaving the room. "How is she?"

The man sighed. "The doctor says she's in a coma; there's no higher brain functioning. But other than that…technically she's fine. They have to run some more tests."

"What do you mean, fine? She's clearly not fine."

"I mean, Sheriff, that there's nothing physically wrong with her. She's not even a little dehydrated. But…somehow she's just not there anymore."

The nurse left, and Emma stood in the doorway, watching father and daughter. She clenched her teeth—this had to be magic. But who would want to hurt a child?

She stepped in and put a gentle hand on Jefferson's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

"Please," he whispered. "Please…just find out what's going on. I can't lose her, Emma."

...

"You know if you just drove around with the windows open the smell would be gone in a couple of days," Michael Tillman said with a grin.

Regina raised an eyebrow at the mechanic. "That's hardly an option."

"Why don't you just use magic to fix it?"

She crossed her arms. "Do you not want my business, Mister Tillman? Has there been a constant influx of cash threatening to overwhelm you?"

He shook his head and wiped his hands on the cloth hanging from his belt. "No, Madame Mayor, just curious. This won't take long, I'll have it done by tonight."

"Thank you." She handed him his money and said, "And for your information, using magic for such mundane activities is a dangerous habit to get into. Besides draining your energy, you can end up diluting your powers, and I've…well, I've come too far to risk that."

Michael nodded and walked to the far wall of his shop, where several sets of keys hung on nails. He grabbed a set and brought them back over to her. He pointed to a grey SUV parked outside. "It's no Mercedes," he said, "but it runs like a dream, and it's honestly the best vehicle I could offer you."

Regina sighed; it certainly was no Mercedes. "Thank you."

She approached the larger vehicle like an adversary, sizing it up. She unlocked it and pulled herself up into the seat, smoothing her skirt. When she turned the key in the ignition, it started quickly and almost silently. It was, objectively, a good car.

She hated it.

The rest of the morning, with limited paperwork to attend to, was shaping up to be rather uneventful. And then Emma showed up.

"I need your help with something," she said.

Regina's brow furrowed. "What could have possibly happened between breakfast and now?"

"Well that's just it; I'm not quite sure. But I know what it looks like, but I have no idea why someone…"

"Stop," Regina commanded. "Have a seat. Take a breath. Slow down. Now, what is it?"

"Grace is in a coma; she collapsed at school."

"Jefferson's Grace?" Emma nodded. Regina closed her eyes, thinking of all the pain that man had already endured for his child. "Is she sick?"

"That's just the thing—physically she seems to be fine. But they're not seeing any kind of higher brain activity. And nothing happened to her, she just collapsed out of nowhere. What does that sound like to you?"

Regina frowned. "Magic."

"Right. But who? And why? Grace is just a little girl."

Regina leaned back in her chair. This was deeply, deeply troubling. The people in Storybrooke who had magical abilities were not the people who would hurt a child (at least not anymore, having suffered so much loss themselves). Not only that, but Regina couldn't quickly think of what type of magic it could be; it sounded like some type of sleeping curse, except for the fact that Grace's brain activity was affected. If anything, a sleeping curse should show more activity, not less, as the person would still be dreaming and thinking…just trapped in a sleeping body. She said as much to Emma.

"But…but what else could it be?"

Regina shook her head. "I have no idea, but I'll figure it out. In the meantime you need to increase patrols—if this is a magical attack, and we haven't had any unexpected visitors in town, it means that someone who's been here has either been hiding a magical power….or just developed one."

Emma groaned. "It was all going so well, too."

"I know, Sheriff. We'll fix it."

…

Three more days came and went—Grace's condition remained unchanged. Ruby delivered food to Jefferson at the hospital, free of charge of course. David and Emma patrolled constantly, taking turns on night shifts and looking for anything out of the ordinary, no matter how small. Regina exhausted her resources and had to consult Gold; they kept coming back to a sleeping curse, but it didn't sit right with either of them.

Emma sat at the counter in Granny's with her head in her hands, half-asleep, with a half-eaten burger in front of her. Granny sighed. "You know you're not doing anybody any good in this condition, don't you Sheriff?"

"I know, Granny. I'm headed home. David's patrolling tonight. I'll sleep, I promise."

"You better. Here, I'm going to pack this up to go, and then you'd better git."

Emma gave her a small smile. "I promise."

"Hi Mom!" came her son's happy voice. He jumped up next to her at the counter and ordered a hot chocolate. "Hey, are you ok?"

"Just tired. As soon as I get home I'm going to crash."

He nodded. "Any leads?"

"No. No, not a one."

"Oh." He put his arms around her. "You'll find something. You always do."

She held him and kissed the top of his head. "Thanks, kid."

"Do you want me to stay over tonight? I could help you."

Granny came back with her food and gave her a look that said she'd better get going. She looked down at Henry. "Any other night, that would be the best. But it wouldn't be fair to you—I am literally going to go up the stairs to my place and fall on the couch and stay there. Not a lot of fun."

"Ok."

"Maybe you can help Regina with the magical side of things."

"Ok."

She looked at him as he sipped his cocoa; he really was the best kid. "I love you, you know."

Henry smiled. "I love you too, Mom."

Emma kissed him again. "Get home safely."

It was probably only six or seven o'clock when she finally walked in her door, but that didn't matter; the sheriff didn't even bother to take off her boots before she went face-down on the couch and fell asleep like she'd never slept before.

…

Halfway through the night she started to toss and turn; she felt warm. She was having a strange dream about being held down, a pillow over her face, suffocating. But then there was a weird, insistent noise, over and over again, growing louder and louder. Suddenly Emma jolted awake—the smoke alarm was going off.

Her apartment was on fire.

Her mind was sleep-and-smoke-scrambled, but she dove to the ground and yanked her jacket down from the couch to cover her nose and mouth. Smoke had filled her apartment. She crawled to the door and reached up, wrapping her shirtsleeve around her hand to touch the doorknob. She yanked the door open and fell into the hallway, coughing. She shouted and banged on closed doors, unsure of how many tenants were home—she had no idea what time it was. When she got to the stairwell she practically rolled down. Just before she reached the main door the firefighters burst in; the first one saw her, motioned to the guy behind him, and raced up the stairs while the second one grabbed her under her arms and pulled her out the door and across the lawn to the street. He pulled a respirator out of the back of the truck and placed it over her face. Someone else grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her.

The whole building was on fire.

Emma closed her eyes and tried to focus on breathing.

"Are you all right? Is everyone all right?" Ruby and Granny were racing around to the rest of the tenants; none of them seemed to have sustained serious injuries. Many, like Emma, had oxygen masks, but everyone looked like they were able to walk. Emma blinked at the feel of water droplets on her face—spray from the hoses, blowing back on the wind.

"Emma!" strong arms engulfed her; her father's arms. She melted into him, and only then realized she'd almost slept through burning to death.

"Dad," she cried.

He held her as a larger crowd started gathering, as the fire was contained, as she assured the medics that she didn't need to go to the hospital. He let her go briefly, when Killian arrived and wanted to know she was all right. While the pirate held her, David went to speak with Granny and the firemen.

"You sure you're ok, love?"

"I'll be fine."

"MOM!" Henry was racing down the street to her; Regina wasn't far behind him.

"Oh god, Henry," she said, starting to cry again. He ran into her full force; she held him tight. What if he had been in there? What if she had let him stay the night, like he'd asked?

"Why aren't you on your way to the hospital?" Regina asked.

Emma wiped her eyes. "I'm fine, really."

Regina raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

Killian placed a hand on her back. "Regina's right, you should probably get checked out."

She ignored both of them and held her son. What if he had been inside? She couldn't get that horror out of her mind. She felt her father's arm around her again.

"They're still looking for what caused it," David said quietly. "Why don't we get you to the hospital? Once you're cleared I can take you back to the loft to rest."

"I don't want to go to the hospital," she growled. She knew she wasn't being logical; she didn't care. She wanted to stay right there, with her child.

"Mom," Henry said, his voice muffled against her. "Maybe if everyone thinks you should go, you should go."

"Listen to him," Regina said. "Please. We can drive you."

Henry looked up at her. "I can go with you."

Emma's eyes went from her son to Regina, Killian to her father. They all had the same look on their faces. She relented and allowed herself to be led to the mayor's Mercedes.

Henry kept a hand on her shoulder the entire way to the hospital. Regina handled any paperwork for her. They wanted to keep her overnight to monitor her; Regina convinced her to stay, since it was already three in the morning anyway. Henry refused to leave and his mothers didn't fight him—it was Saturday and he didn't have school to worry about. He slept in the bed, next to Emma.

Emma stirred an hour later; her son did not. She looked over at Regina, who was sitting in the bedside chair, wide awake. "Are you all right?"

"Me?" Regina said, blinking. "What a ridiculous thing to ask in your condition. I'm fine."

"You're awake. You're thinking about something."

"You could have been killed." Regina said, her voice cracking.

The display of emotion surprised Emma. She assumed Regina would be upset about the chance that Henry could have been with her, or her foolishness for moving out of her parents' loft for apartments she knew the mayor felt were seedy. It never really occurred to her that Regina was upset about _her_.

She didn't know what to say, and she could see Regina struggling to maintain her composure. She reached out to the other woman; Regina hesitated, then took Emma's hand in her own.

At some point Emma must have fallen back asleep because she found herself waking up. Henry was in the chair, and Regina was nowhere in sight. "Hey kid."

"Are you feeling better?"

She was suddenly painfully aware of every stair she had fallen down. But… "Yeah. Much better. Where's your mom?"

"Paperwork. The doctor said we could take you home with us."

"Oh, Henry, I…I'm probably going back to Mary Margaret and David's. I'm sorry." Her heart sank.

Henry looked confused. "That's not what Mom said. She said you were going to stay with us for awhile."

Emma blinked. "She…what?"

"Unless you have any objections, Miss Swan," Regina said from the doorway.

Emma tried to be upset. Regina should have asked her. She shouldn't have put her on the spot in front of their son. But try as she might, Emma couldn't get upset at all-she was overwhelmed with joy at the idea of going home with Henry. As for Regina…Emma found herself more blindsided by her generosity than anything else. She thought back to when she'd stayed the night after the fish fry…she could have that every night.

"No," Emma said. "No objections."

"Good." Regina turned to Henry. "Henry dear, why don't you find Emma some coffee in this place while she changes her clothes?"

"Ok!" He bounded from the room.

Emma saw the shadow cross Regina's face as soon as he left. "Oh no. What is it? What's happened?"

Regina sat on the edge of the bed; it took her a long time to get the words out.

"Grace died last night."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews :D

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The doctors had no answers. The sheriff had no suspects. And Regina had no patience for the mysterious magical deaths of children.

Her study in the mansion was strewn with books and scrolls. She researched sleeping spells and killing curses, then possession and astral projection. Nothing sounded like Grace. What would lead a healthy child to a brain-dead state of sleep…and then death? When yet another book failed to provide her with any answers, she hurled the tome across the room.

It landed at Robin's feet. He bent forward to retrieve it. "Emma said you'd be in here. I hope you don't mind."

"I…no, I…" she ran a hand through her hair. "What time is it?"

Robin put the book gently on a table. "The service is going to start soon. We should get going."

"How can I show my face there when I don't have any answers for him? It's…it's disrespectful, I can't. I have to figure this out."

"Regina…"

"No, Robin," she spat. "I have to. I owe him so much for what I did to him, but I _never_ would have hurt his child. Not even back then."

"Of course not—"

"—but now someone in this town has used magic I don't even recognize to _kill_ her. They killed her, Robin." She stared helplessly at the piles all around her, then put her face in her hands and tried to control her breathing.

She felt him sit on the floor next to her; he put a hand on her knee. "I believe you," he said softly. "I'm not going to try to talk you out of it, say maybe it was a heart condition, or something like that. If you say it was magic, and malicious, I believe you. But Regina…the funeral is today. We have to be there for Jefferson, as a town, to show him he hasn't been left alone."

She picked her head up. "He deserves answers, Robin."

He took her hand. "And we are going to give them to him, Regina. There's something that we're missing in all of this sadness. And we will find it. But not today."

He stood and helped her to her feet. He held her close and kissed the top of her head. "Shall we go?"

Regina kept her face pressed to his chest; the scent of him always calmed her. "All right."

When they finally emerged from the house, she saw Emma waiting by her yellow monstrosity while Henry and Roland played catch in the yard. It gave Regina a sense of comfort that her strange little family was all together. Emma nodded at her and Robin, then called to Henry as she started the bug. Robin and Roland climbed into her Mercedes with her, and they headed to the cemetery.

No funeral is a happy occasion, but a child's is particularly tragic; Regina kept an arm tightly around Robin for the entire service. No words could be enough, but Mother Superior did her best anyway, and certainly there was no one who could have done better. When it came time to lower the small coffin into the ground, Henry came over to his mother and she held him tight, grateful that he was alive and well and _there._ Regina glanced over his head to see Emma in Hook's arms; she couldn't even muster the strength to be irritated by the insufferable pirate today. After the service everyone headed to Granny's, as always, to try to heal some of the pain with food.

The reception was a grim affair. Jefferson still wasn't speaking; Leroy, himself a man of few words, kept close to him both to keep an eye on him and to keep others at bay. Granny and Ruby kept the food going. Emma stayed close to the pirate or her parents, Regina with Robin and Roland. Henry stayed with the Charmings, mostly, which made Regina feel a twinge of guilt; she needed to be there for her son, and she had allowed her own emotions to get the best of her. That had been happening a lot lately. How else could she explain her decision to bring Emma to live at the mansion? Regina convinced herself it made perfect sense on paper—they would both be with their son, they'd been getting along so well lately, she had so much room to spare…

…but a tiny red flag in her mind recalled hearing about the fire at Emma's apartment building. She'd felt ill. The Savior, burned up in cheap housing, too exhausted from saving everyone to save herself? It couldn't be. Henry would never recover. And Regina was trying to come to terms with the fact that she may not recover from something like that either. Emma had become…well, she was family. That's what Regina kept reminding herself when her feelings tried to confuse her.

"Regina." Robin leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"Yes?"

"It's getting late."

She sighed. It was. She glanced around the diner—she saw Henry speaking with Mary Margaret, but she didn't see Emma. She grimaced; she was probably with Hook. Regina wrapped her arms around Robin. "Would you stay with me tonight?"

He kissed her. "Of course."

It was decided that Roland would go home with Little John and Henry would stay with his grandparents, a special treat these days. Less than an hour later Regina was falling back onto her bed, Robin on top of her, the normally refined mayor not caring if her clothes were torn to shreds as long as they got off of her fast enough.

…

"A candle?" Emma said to her father. "Are you serious?"

David nodded. "That's what the report from the fire department said. It caught on the curtains, and the whole place went up from there."

"But that's so…so…"

"Stupid?" Killian volunteered.

"Well… _yeah."_ Emma said. "I mean, we're lucky that fire didn't kill anyone." Killian pulled her closer; she settled against his chest.

David took another swig of his beer. "Don't worry about it tonight. You can read the report tomorrow. _After_ you've slept."

"Aye," Killian said. "You're working too hard, love."

"No more lectures, thank you," she told them. "I know how I get; I got the message." Movement caught her eye—Jefferson was walking away from the reception, down the middle of the street, and not in the direction of his house. Emma frowned and started to follow when she saw Leroy; the dwarf tipped his winter cap to her to assure her the situation was covered. Two more dwarves, she noticed, were trailing the duo at a distance. She nodded and waved at Leroy to let him know she understood.

David patted her on the shoulder. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Sure thing."

When her father went back inside Killian held out his hand; she took it, and they walked towards her car. Killian cleared his throat. "I know that you've got a lot on your mind, and I know you need to do things your way. But…any chance I could help you out tonight? I can be a great distraction."

She smiled softly at him. They hadn't stayed the night together in a while…too long, probably. She felt guilty realizing he probably would have loved to have taken care of her on his ship, and she'd moved in with Regina instead, after insisting the first time he'd mentioned it that she had to be on her own. But that first day at the mansion…well, Emma had slept through it, technically. She had awoken at one point to a grilled cheese sandwich and a cup of cider (still warm) on her bedside table, plus a note from Henry that said how glad he was that she was home. She consumed everything as though she'd never seen food before, and thoroughly sated, fell back to sleep.

That night, however (more like early the next morning), she was roused from the depths of sleep again when she heard strange noises. She eased her aching body out of bed and opened Henry's bedroom door—he was fast asleep, twisted in the blankets. She smiled at the sight, and gently closed the door. She hesitated outside of Regina's room, heard the noise again, and cracked the door. Regina wasn't there, and if the crisply made bed was any indication she hadn't been to bed yet at all.

Emma crept down the stairs; the few lights that were on cast strange shadows on the walls. A third sound, this one more like a series of thumps, told Emma the activity was in Regina's study. She stopped in the doorway and watched the mayor descend a ladder to retrieve the books that had fallen to the floor. She cleared her throat; Regina looked up, startled.

"Why aren't you in bed?"

"I heard something."

"I'm…I'm sorry I disturbed you," Regina said with an embarrassed huff.

"No it's ok, I was just worried. What are you doing?"

"Research."

Emma nodded. "For Grace."

The name seemed to take the wind out of Regina's remaining sails; she leaned against her desk, and her shoulders sagged. "Yes." Emma waited for her to say something else, but Regina just lifted a hand to cover her eyes.

Emma stepped carefully over piles of books and placed a gentle hand on Regina's shoulder; the other woman looked at her, unshed tears swimming in her eyes. "Come on," Emma said softly. "You need to go to bed."

Regina shook her head. "I'm fine. Really."

"Regina—"

"Emma, please," she snapped. Emma pulled her hand away and stepped back. Regina wrapped her arms around herself, a look of regret on her face. "I'm sorry," she said immediately. "I can't…my mind is racing. I'm afraid I won't sleep anyway so I might as well stay up and try to get something done."

Emma thought for a moment. "You know, earlier someone left the most incredible apple cider in my room for me; it warmed me up and made me feel like a million bucks." She shrugged. "Maybe it would help you quiet your brain."

Regina looked a little hopeful but hesitated.

Emma tried another tactic she hoped wasn't too underhanded. "I know I could really use another mug. It's probably just the thing to help with these little aches."

Concern now colored Regina's face but it got the desired effect; the mayor nodded and headed for the kitchen, with Emma close behind her. Regina warmed the cider in silence, and the two women leaned on the kitchen island to drink. Emma nodded. "Yep," she said. "Already working." She smiled at Regina; the other woman smiled shyly and looked away, her cheeks coloring slightly. Emma cocked her head to the side, intrigued by the reaction, but she didn't comment on it. She placed a hand on her low back (which seemed to be the part of her body that had hit the most stairs in her tumble) and pressed while holding her mug with the other.

"Are you actually all right?"

"Yeah, I will be. Nothing that won't work itself out with a little more rest."

Regina frowned and came around the island to her. "I can help, if you'll let me." Her eyes met Emma's as the mayor placed a tentative hand on the blonde. "Here?"

Emma swallowed. "Uh…yeah." She closed her eyes as warmth from Regina's hand penetrated through her back practically to her core. The woman's other hand was on Emma's shoulder for support. As her back started to feel better than it had even before the fire, Emma felt a fluttering in her chest and gasped.

Regina pulled away. "Did I hurt you?"

Startled, Emma looked into the other woman's eyes again and felt the heat in her own cheeks. "No…no. That was just…" she cleared her throat. "Unexpected. I feel incredible, thank you."

Regina gave her a warm smile. "You're welcome."

Emma had had trouble falling back asleep when they both went upstairs to bed. She kept trying to deny the feeling that had caused the fluttering in her chest, but she realized it was the same one that wouldn't leave Regina in her study all night in the first place, and the one that made her sit on the trunk of the mayor's car and assure her that she wasn't going to be scared away. It was the same feeling that led her to take Regina's arm at the fish fry, and held her close on the back porch.

"So what do you say, love?"

Emma blinked back to reality; Killian was staring at her with hope and encouragement. With a twinge of guilt about where her thoughts had gone, she wrapped her arms around Killian's neck and said, "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea." She kissed him and pulled out her phone. "Let me just tell Regina and Henry not to worry…" She frowned; her phone was dead. "Hang on, I'll run in and find them."

But the reception seemed to have ended with Jefferson's exit, and her family seemed to have left without her. The sheriff thrust her hands into her pockets, slightly crushed to have been left behind, but also sure that had her phone been charged she would have gotten a call or a text from them…she was the one who had wandered from Granny's first, after all.

Killian came up behind her. "Everything all right?"

She placed a hand on his chest and appreciated the arm he wrapped around her. "Yeah." She stared at her dead phone in frustration and felt torn. "I just…I don't want Henry to worry about me, and I can't…"

Killian nodded; his supportive tone couldn't hide the disappointment in his eyes. "You should go, then. We'll be together another time."

"Killian, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, it's all right. Go home to your son." He kissed her, and strode away.

Emma sighed heavily and drove her bug back to the mansion.

The house was completely dark. Emma frowned, got out of her car, and walked to the front door while looking for any signs of disturbance. If Regina and Henry hadn't come home, where would they be at this hour? She used the copy of the key Regina had given her and let herself in.

There was no sign of anyone inside. "Hello?" she called out. "Regina? Henry? Are you guys here?"

What the hell time _was_ it? It couldn't be that late. Emma crept up the stairs to Henry's room, knocked lightly, and opened the door. No Henry. Bed completely made. "Huh." She went down the hall to her room to plug in her phone, sure that there had to be a message waiting for her.

Emma flipped on the bedside light and reached around until she found the cord for the charger. She plugged in her phone and waited for it to have enough of a charge to at least turn on.

She thought she heard a sound, but dismissed it as an old house noise…but then she heard it again. A voice. Someone was in the house. She slipped into Henry's room for his bat before making her way to the stairs. Before descending, she decided to check Regina's room, the only place upstairs she hadn't been yet. She cracked the door to peek in.

She froze.

There in the throes of passion were Regina and Robin, locked at the hips, eyes only for each other, thankfully, as Emma was still in the doorway with her breath caught in her throat and, for a moment, unable to close the door. The voice she'd heard was Regina, gasping and calling out to Robin as their bodies rocked back and forth, faster and faster. The blankets had been thrown from the bed, leaving an unobstructed view of the two lovers, though Emma found that she was only staring at one. Finally her brain caught up with her and she pulled the door shut. It wasn't until she had returned the bat to Henry's room and gone back to her own room on autopilot and closed the door that she remembered to breathe.

She leaned against her bedroom door, heart pounding, cheeks flushed, and trying to get the image of Regina on her back gasping with pleasure out of her mind. She closed her eyes and imagined running her own hands through that dark hair, imagined toned thighs locked around her waist, imagined Regina's pleasure at her own hands.

Emma opened her eyes.

Had she lost her mind? Had she completely and utterly lost her mind?

She ran to her phone, desperate for it to turn on. It did. Sure enough, there were messages from Mary Margaret and Regina about Henry staying with her parents. She shook her head, silently cursing the fates. She sat back on the bed, cradling the phone in her hands, a knot forming in her stomach as an idea formed in her head; she couldn't help but hear the muffled cries of pleasure from the room next door, and her body was responding no matter how much she willed it to stop. With a sinking feeling of guilt, she texted Killian.

 _All is well here after all. Is your invitation still good?_

In less than five minutes, she was back in the car, on the way to her perfectly wonderful boyfriend, feeling like the worst girlfriend in the world.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Thank you so much, my kind and generous reviewers:) General content warning: there will be other minor character victims (handled the same as the first ie non-graphic). Thank you for reading and following!

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Regina sat in front of David at the sheriff's station the next morning, staring at the fire department's report. "An accident."

"That's it."

She frowned. "Has she seen this?"

David shifted in his chair. "Not yet. I told her the gist of it last night, but…"

"…but not that it was a candle that was left burning in _her_ apartment," Regina finished.

David sighed. "No."

She stared back at the paper in her hands.

"It's not a huge surprise, Regina. Emma's been exhausted, you know that."

"I know she's going to be devastated. She'll blame herself."

"It…it was an accident." She could tell the words sounded empty to him, too.

At that moment, the sheriff appeared, coffee in hand and, unless Regina was mistaken, Emma was in the same clothes from the night before. The funereal look wasn't natural on the blonde at all, let alone for two days in a row, and Regina wondered why Emma hadn't stopped by the house to change after her evening tryst. But "Good morning," was all she said out loud.

Emma pushed her hair out of her face and looked surprised to see Regina there. "What are you…oh. You're here for the reports," she said.

Regina shared a look with David. "Of course."

"Right. Of course." Emma marched over and extended her hand; Regina gave her the paperwork and waited. Emma flipped quickly from page to page. "No casualties…east end of building completely destroyed…ok, here's the candle you mentioned, it's ridiculous that one small…wait. Wait a minute." Her eyes went wide. "This says it was in my room."

"No one's blaming you…" David started.

"This wasn't my fault."

Regina looked at her, surprised; the sheriff was adamant. David cleared his throat. "No. Of course not. The workload here was taking its toll, otherwise you never would have left it burning."

"No David. I'm saying this is wrong." Emma looked frantically at Regina. "I didn't light a candle before going to sleep. I don't even have a candle. I don't have anything—you know that."

David was clearly at a loss. "Emma, they're sure of the location. It was in your bedroom."

Something clicked in Regina's mind. She held up a hand. "Emma's right—something's wrong here. Even if she had a candle, she wouldn't have left it in the bedroom—she never went in there. The room was kept for Henry."

"I always slept on the couch." Emma glared at the report. "What the hell is going on?"

"Arson."

They let Regina's answer hang in the air.

Emma lowered herself into a chair, defeated. "Arson meant to look like an accident."

"Like Grace's illness," Regina said.

David leaned back. "You think the fire is connected to Grace's death?"

"I didn't, but I certainly do now. A little girl slips into a coma with no signs or symptoms, and dies the same night a fire is set in a room Emma doesn't use with a candle she doesn't own." She sighed. "Mind you, I have no idea what that connection may be…but I don't think we can afford to look at this as a week of coincidental tragedies."

"Why a candle, of all things?" Emma asked them. "I mean seriously, there have to be dozens of better ways of committing arson, even if you want to hide it."

Regina couldn't resist the setup. "I'm sure you'd know, with your record."

"Please, _you_ should know, you've killed way more people than me."

Regina felt like she'd been punched in the gut. She'd started it, foolishly—she had no right to get upset, but Emma's words hurt her deeply just the same.

The sheriff was desperately trying to backpedal. "Regina…I didn't mean…I'm so sorry."

"I should return to my office," she said tightly. "Candle magic is quite extensive, but at least I have an idea of where to start now." She grabbed her jacket and left. When she was in the safe confines of her car, she released a shuddering breath. She had killed a lot of people in her life, she couldn't deny that…but she'd thought she was past the point with Emma where the other woman would hurt her with it. Obviously she was wrong. She started to drive back to her office, thought better of it, and headed to the mansion.

There were more books there anyway, and certainly more wine.

…

 _Outside the wind howled and rapped at the windows, trying to get in, but the tavern remained warm and snug against the storm._

 _The blizzard had been raging for two days. Alta's horse was safe with the others in the barn. The townspeople went out in shifts to beat some of the snow off the roofs to keep them from collapsing; they already spoke of repairs that would need to be done when the storm finally blew itself out. Scott and Jonna had prepared well: the tavern was stockpiled with food, drink, and blankets, as well as instruments, playing cards, and dice. It was a safety hub in winter, the main shelter for those whose homes were most at risk. But spirits were fine as people were safe._

 _Alta gazed out the window, her hands wrapped around a mug of hot tea. She worried about her mother and Katie. She knew their home was well-built, and there was plenty of food…but she hoped they weren't too worried about her. It would take Katie longer to get better if she lost sleep over Alta. She had to trust that her own mother's ginger cookies and warm ciders, teas, and soups would soothe Katie as much as they had her when she was a little girl._

 _Alta sipped her tea and leaned her head against the windowpane._

 _The storm raged on._

 _…_

 _Great job, Swan._ After messing up royally with Regina, Emma realized she should go home for a shower and a change of clothes after all. Her plan had been to avoid the mayor this morning, forgetting that she would of course be at the same meeting. The meeting where Emma had decided to call her a killer. Regina, the woman searching for redemption, the other mother of her child, who had opened her home to Emma and taken care of her.

 _Get a grip, Swan._

If she let her feelings knock her sense out the door, everything would only get worse, not better. She needed to focus. The shower would help.

She saw Regina's car outside of the mansion and swore. Regina said she was going to the office! She heaved a sigh, sucked it up, and ventured into the house.

"Miss Swan."

Emma hadn't even closed the door behind her yet. She placed her keys on the entry table, braced herself, and walked into Regina's study. Her first impression, which made her heart ache, was that the woman in front of her was trying her best to appear sober. She swallowed. "Regina…I'm…I'm so sorry."

Regina nodded but stayed seated behind her desk. "I haven't been able to find anything…definitive…but there are several spells that may give us a place to start, at least." She wouldn't look Emma in the eye.

The blonde closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The night before had been so painful; she had spent it in Killian's bed, thinking that if they reconnected it would banish thoughts of Regina from her mind. It hadn't worked. And afterwards, wrapped in his loving arms, sleep had eluded her; not only was she clearly developing feelings for Regina…but she had used her boyfriend to try to fix it. She had hoped that in driving straight to work she wouldn't have to see Regina until the evening, and by then Henry would be there too.

But the universe seemed to have other ideas.

Emma swallowed. "I'm going to make you some coffee."

"Nonsense," Regina said, "I don't need it."

"I'm making it anyway." She vanished into the safety of the kitchen and started to fill the coffee pot when Regina appeared in the doorway. "What," Emma said nervously, "You don't think I can make coffee on my own?"

"You still don't trust me."

Emma deflated at her words. "That's not true. Earlier, I…I went for the joke. The _bad_ joke. It wasn't funny and didn't reflect my feelings at all but I went for it anyway, without thinking. Please believe me when I say the last thing I want to do it hurt you. I…" She stopped before she said something else without thinking it through. She turned back to the coffee pot and started it brewing.

Regina sat at the island; the only sound in the kitchen was the percolating coffee. Emma prepped two mugs and set one in front of Regina, who finally met her eyes. "It's possible that I…overreacted," she said quietly.

Emma leaned back against the counter. "I don't blame you. I just hope you'll accept my apology."

Regina wrapped her hands tightly around her mug. "I can do that, yes."

Emma smiled at her, relieved. They sipped their coffee in silence for awhile, but the sheriff had something else on her mind. "Regina…is this too much? Me living here?"

Regina closed her eyes. "You want to leave."

"I want us to be okay," Emma insisted, refusing to rise to the bait. "I feel like all I've done is hurt you when you've been nothing but generous to me. What I want, very much, is to not mess this up. You and me. We've come way too far for that." She chose not to elaborate on the many ways she felt she might 'mess this up.'

Regina nodded. She stood, slowly, and made her way to the sink where she deposited her now-empty coffee cup. Emma was afraid the other woman wasn't going to say anything to her, but then Regina steadied herself against the counter, and with her back to Emma said, "I don't want you to go."

Emma's heart swelled, pushing away her better judgement that was trying to warn her against living with the object of her newfound infatuation. Regina wanting her to stay was enough of an excuse to do so.

Regina cleared her throat. "I should rest before Henry gets home. I don't want him to see me like this."

"Do you want me to take care of dinner tonight?"

Regina raised an eyebrow. "Not in my kitchen."

Emma crossed her arms and couldn't fight the small grin that appeared on her face. "I meant I'd order a pizza, but thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Pizza sounds fine. Thank you for the coffee." Regina started to leave, but hesitated in the doorway, leaning against the frame.

"Are you all right?" When she didn't get an answer, Emma went to her and placed a gentle hand on her arm. "Regina?"

The other woman turned into her touch and placed a hand on Emma's hip. Dark brown eyes searched Emma's for what felt like the longest minute of her life, with neither woman making a move to let go. Emma dared to bring a hand up and gently tuck Regina's hair behind her ear. She closed her eyes, her heart in her throat, as Regina leaned in. She felt a hand wrap into her hair and the gentle warmth of soft lips on her cheek. She stopped breathing.

"Regina…" she whispered, her voice shaking.

The front door slammed. "Mom? Are you guys home?"

They instantly pulled apart; Emma tried desperately to remember how to speak. Regina vanished in a cloud of purple smoke, abandoning the sheriff in the doorway.

"Mom?"

Emma ran a hand through her hair and tried to get herself under control. "In here, Henry."

He came bounding into the kitchen. "Hey!" He started rummaging through the fridge. Emma went into autopilot mode, her heart still hammering.

"Don't have too much, we're getting pizza tonight."

"What kind?"

"Whatever you want. Look…I need to shower, and your mom…" She had another flash of the dark haired woman at her mercy in her bed. She tried to force the desire out of her mind. "She's not feeling too well. She's resting upstairs, ok?"

Henry looked at her with concern, a bottle of juice in hand. "Is she sick?"

"No, just tired." She ruffled his hair to reassure him. "She's been working a lot."

He frowned. "You both are."

She heard the odd tone in his voice, and her mind filled in the blanks; the last time she worked so hard and was exhausted there was a fire in her apartment. She put her hands on his shoulders. "You're right. But now we're all in the same house, and we can take care of each other, and remind each other when we're working too hard. Ok? We're going to keep each other safe. I promise." She hugged him.

"Ok."

"Why don't you start your homework, and when I come back down you can tell me what pizza you want."

"Ok!"

She let out a long breath, hands on her hips, before deciding to ascend the stairs to her room. As she passed Regina's bedroom, she hesitated. She placed a hand on the closed door, listening for any sign of life on the other side.

Regina had kissed her; it had never occurred to her that what she was feeling for the mayor could ever be reciprocated. But was it? What if Regina had just had too much to drink? What if she got upset with Emma for not stopping her? But she had just said she wanted Emma to stay…and then she kissed her.

 _What if she actually felt the same way._

Emma's hope was short lived as she thought of Killian, and Robin…and Henry.

She looked down at the clothes she'd been in for two days. She tried to push everything else to the back of her mind except the one reason she'd headed back to the mansion in the first place—to take a shower. She was going to take a long, cold shower, and figure everything else out later.

…

Regina materialized in the woods near her vault. She fell to her knees on the cold ground and started to sob. Emotions shook her whole body, and she stayed there, letting it all out, until she stopped shaking from her feelings and started shaking from the cold. She sat with her back against the wall and tried to catch her breath.

What had she done?

The truth was, she hadn't done anything she hadn't wanted to do a million times…and she hadn't done nearly as much as she'd wanted to. And she'd done it because, for a fleeting moment, she was convinced Emma wanted it as much as she did. She wrapped her arms around herself and pressed back into the unyielding granite, grateful for its strength. She'd tried to discount how she felt around Emma so many times, but drinking a bottle of wine because the other woman had hurt her feelings…well, that wasn't considered a normal response among friends. She was pretty sure of that.

And Henry had almost seen them doing…whatever it was they were about to do. Regina didn't even know; was Emma going to stop her from taking things further, or not? She closed her eyes at the memory of the other woman's hand tucking a dark lock of hair out of her face; Regina had taken that as permission to press her luck. She sighed. What if she'd just been wrong, read everything wrong, because she was drunk? What if she was seeing what she wanted to see? Emma had just told her she didn't want to mess things up between them, and Regina felt a knot forming in her stomach as she realized she probably had done just that, and not just for them but for Henry as well. All she could think of was that she didn't want the blonde to leave…but what else did she want? And more importantly, what did she expect? To have Henry and Emma at home, and Robin whenever she pleased?

Robin.

With a pang of guilt she realized she hadn't thought about him during any of this.

Did she still want _everything,_ no matter who she hurt to get it? Had she actually not changed at all?

She stayed in the woods until the cold sobered her up enough to think logically again: she would go home. She would have dinner with her family. She would go to sleep and start fresh tomorrow.

…

"Here you go kid: one extra-large, extra cheese pizza with sausage and mushrooms." Emma deposited the huge box in the middle of the kitchen island and opened the lid, allowing the delicious pizza smell to fill the room.

"All right!" Henry grabbed three plates and set them next to the box, then frowned. "Is Mom still asleep?"

"I guess so," Emma said as nonchalantly as possible. The truth was she hadn't seen or heard any sign of Regina since she'd vanished in a puff of smoke. Emma had finally showered and changed into her customary jeans and tank top, and was doing her best to feel like herself and not an infatuated teenager.

"Shouldn't we check on her?"

Emma cursed under her breath; of course they should, but since Regina didn't want Henry seeing her in an emotionally distressed and inebriated state, that meant she was the one who needed to do the checking. She plastered on what she hoped was a confident smile. "You're right. I'll be right back."

She ascended the stairs with more trepidation than she'd felt facing off against a dragon. When she got to the mayor's bedroom door she cleared her throat and slipped her hands in her pockets, suddenly unsure of their use. "Regina? Uh…it's me. The pizza's here." She chewed her lip and waited for a response. When there wasn't one, she tried again. "Henry just wanted to make sure you were feeling all right—I told him I'd check."

The door opened and she was faced with a woman who looked just as anxious as she herself felt; but the second thing Emma noticed was that Regina was shivering. She frowned. "Where were you?"

"I…I had to go out. I'm fine."

"Ok…"

"Please tell Henry I'll be right down." Regina closed the door. Emma didn't realize until she was back in the kitchen that Regina had barely looked at her. She crumpled inside, sure she'd done something wrong. Absently, she started making a pot of tea.

"Tea with pizza?" Henry asked, chewing on a thick slice.

"Tonight I think so. For your mom. I think it would do her some good."

"Are you sure she's not sick?"

Emma smiled at him and tried to soothe his fears. "It's more preventive. She's not sick, but the more tired you get, especially this time of year, the more likely it is that you could _get_ sick. I think we should all have a cup."

"What's on the menu tonight?"

Regina's sudden appearance startled Emma; the woman had undergone a complete transformation from crumpled skirt and blazer to crisp trousers and blouse. She was all smiles for their son, who hugged her.

"Pizza!"

"Did you order?" He nodded enthusiastically. Regina rolled her eyes. "Wonderful. That means extra cheese and a triple bypass for everyone."

"It's ok: Emma's making tea for us, so it all balances out."

Regina turned and looked at her, and Emma's breath caught in her throat at the unspoken thanks that was radiating off of her. The blonde bit her lip and addressed their son. "I'm not sure that's how it works, Henry."

He shrugged and helped himself to a second slice while Emma set out mugs for tea. Regina settled next to him and cut half a slice for herself. Emma automatically pivoted and grabbed a knife and fork, which she gave to Regina.

"Thank you."

Emma's heart warmed at the words, and when the tea kettle sang out that it was ready, she filled their cups. Henry sniffed at his. "What kind of tea is this?"

"Chamomile," she answered. "It's great for stress and digestion. Also it's very mild as far as flavor goes, I think you'll like it." Henry seemed to, but it was Regina Emma kept her eyes on. The mayor closed her eyes and seemed to be drawing strength from the warmth of the mug. Emma settled and had her own gooey slice of pizza, folding it over on itself and therefore devouring it in half the time it took the others. Henry was impressed of course, Regina quietly horrified.

"All right," Emma said as she started clearing dishes. "Back to homework. If you finish early enough maybe we could start another movie."

Henry sighed. "Probably not tonight. I've got a project to work on."

"Oh," she said, kissing the top of his head, "well then I'll be up to check on you in a bit. You might need a hot chocolate if you're working that hard."

He grinned up at her, then ran to Regina and hugged her. "Promise me you guys won't work all night. Please."

Regina raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought we're supposed to take care of _you."_

He kissed her cheek. "We take care of each other. We're a family. And you didn't promise me."

Regina held him tight, one hand on his head and one on his back; she met Emma's eyes. "We promise, Henry."

Emma felt that fluttering in her chest again. "Yeah. We promise."

Satisfied, their son scooted out of the kitchen and thundered up the stairs, leaving his mothers alone once again. Emma cleared her throat and resumed dish duty. "Do you need help with research?"

"I'm only going to look through one or two more books tonight; you're welcome to take one yourself. Take note of anything that stands out in any way to you."

"Ok." She became unusually focused on cleaning the edge of a plate when she felt Regina come up behind her, but the other woman was merely setting her mug in the sink before heading back to her study. Emma let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding.

The rest of the evening, fortunately, was uneventful. Emma brought Henry his hot chocolate, and flipped through a spell book next to him while he did his own work. It was an old volume filled with images of candles—black and white ones, ones with symbols carved into them, round ones, thin ones, enormous ones. Spells written in wax, the different consistencies of wax, herbs and crystals that could enhance candle spells. Star charts and lunar cycles, reasons for using candles near water versus rocks or trees. But there wasn't anything that reminded her of Grace's situation, and a fire lit with a magic candle could probably enhance any spell; she still had nothing without a motivation.

As Henry finished his work she realized she should go to bed too and keep her promise to her son to get some rest. Once he was tucked in she headed to her own room, but hesitated when she saw light spilling from Regina's open door. She decided to ask if she had had any more luck with her research than Emma had.

But when she got to the doorway she saw Regina had fallen asleep on her bed, a book still open in her lap. Emma smiled softly at the sight and allowed herself a moment to take in the beauty of the woman while she wouldn't be caught. She crept over to the bed and gently took the book from Regina's hands and placed it on her nightstand before grabbing a blanket from the foot of the bed and draping it across Regina's sleeping form. She hesitated, then allowed herself to tuck a lock of dark hair away from Regina's face; her hand lingered a beat longer than necessary. She sighed and stood up. "Goodnight," she whispered. She switched off the light on her way out.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: Your follows and favorites make me squee :D Thank you, thank you, thank you for reading and reviewing! Onward we go... (also to those of you who are also doing NaNoWriMo best of luck!)

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Emma sat at Granny's Diner with a file open in front of her, a half-forgotten sandwich, and an empty cup of coffee.

It had been two weeks since they'd gotten the report on the fire. The dwarves were rebuilding the damaged apartment wing, Granny had resettled her tenants between her inn and places Mr. Gold had available, but Emma still felt as though she was getting more questions than answers. She still didn't know if someone was targeting her or Henry by starting the blaze in her apartment or if it was just random, she didn't know for sure that it was connected in any way to Gracie's death that was nowhere near the scene, and the reports from the hospital said no reason was found for Gracie's condition.

All she knew was that the fire had been set on purpose and a little girl was dead. Same as last week. Same as the week before that. She heaved a sigh and closed the folder.

Ruby appeared at her table and refilled her coffee. "You may need to step away from your case, Sheriff. Come back and look at it with fresh eyes."

"I've always had trouble backing off, Ruby. I don't like things left unfinished."

"Except your sandwich."

Emma raised an eyebrow at her.

Ruby winked. "And I'm not saying drop it. I'm saying take a break in order to come back at it full force."

Emma shrugged.

Ruby slid into the booth across from her. "Ok, change of topic then: we've got room at the inn if you still want it."

"What for?"

"For the reasons you moved out of your parents' in the first place—to have your own space, settle in. You've been at the mansion for awhile now, and I don't know, I just wanted to make sure you knew you had options."

"Oh…well, thank you. Really. I've actually been…"

Actually, when she stopped to think about it, she and Regina had fallen into a pattern at home. Emma would wake up after everyone else but would find breakfast waiting for her, always still warm. If Regina and Henry had left she would eat on the way to work, but if they were home she'd eat in the kitchen with them. They touched base during the day to see who would be home first for Henry. Occasionally at night Regina would stay out with Robin or Emma would see Killian, but more often than not Regina would retire to her study with a glass of wine and her books and Emma would alternate between working on the couch and watching television. Henry would pop between the two of them for company or homework help.

"I know it sounds strange, Ruby, but…it works."

The one thing Regina and Emma tried to avoid was being alone together at night; one or the other of them would head off to bed when Henry did. It was an unspoken understanding, which made it clear to Emma that something was kindling between them, but they both thought it was a mistake. It couldn't be love, Emma insisted to herself; it was infatuation, a crush, a curiosity. A potentially dangerous fantasy. To act on any of those lesser feelings would be unfair, at best, to everyone else they loved. It would be cruel at its worst.

Ruby pushed her uneaten sandwich at her. "Ok then. But if you change your mind, let us know. And if you're not going to give yourself a break, you have to eat." She shrugged. "That's the deal."

Emma gave her a small grin. "Okay."

Satisfied, Ruby got up to assist other customers. The jingle of the bell above the door announced more and more people coming in for the lunch hour, but Emma didn't pay them any mind until one stood next to her and gave her a warm and sincere hello. She looked up from her work and into Robin's eyes; she immediately sat up straighter. "Robin!"

"How are you today, Sheriff?"

"I'm good, I'm…fine. How are you and Roland?"

"Quite well, thank you. Have you seen Regina yet?"

"No, was I supposed to? Did I miss a meeting or…"

"Oh no, no, nothing like that," he smiled. "I was just meeting her for lunch. She works so hard during the day, I try to remind her to break it up from time to time. Remember what we do all of it for, right? Otherwise, what's the point?"

"Right," Emma said, staring down at her own pile of papers. She sighed. "Though I should head back to the station, I suppose." She signaled to Ruby that she would take her food to go and started gathering her files.

"Speak of the devil," Robin said, throwing his arms wide to embrace Regina.

Emma stiffened and plastered a smile on her face.

"We're not chasing you away, I hope," Regina said.

"No, I took an early lunch," Emma assured her. She looked from the stack of papers in her hands to the couple before her and said, "Why don't I get Henry this afternoon? You guys should have time to…eat…and…just be together," she stammered.

Robin slipped an arm around Regina's waist. "Are you sure? That would be wonderful!"

"Yes," she said, looking at Regina. "Yes, I'm sure. It'll make me take a break too."

"Thank you," Regina said. Robin kissed her cheek and excused himself to wash up. Regina placed a hand on Emma's arm as the sheriff turned to leave. "Will I see you both at home later?"

The look in her eyes gave Emma a million reasons to schedule a date with Killian tonight, but she found herself saying, "Sure. Yes." She couldn't say no to Regina, which was all the more reason to figure out how to do just that.

Tomorrow.

When she got back to the station, Emma decided to take everyone's advice and take a half day. She locked all of the files in her desk so she wouldn't be tempted to work at home, and drove her yellow bug to the docks. She took note of the delivery truck that had backed up almost to the water, and then flashed a smile to Killian as he waved from the Jolly Roger.

"To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" he asked as he helped her aboard.

"I'm taking a long-overdue break."

He pulled her close and kissed her. "I've missed you, Swan."

She wrapped her arms around him and stared out at the sparkling water. "Are the fishing boats due back again?"

"Aye. There's no festival though, so it's a quieter affair."

Emma suddenly lit up inside with an idea. She checked her watch.

"Do you have to leave me already, love?"

Her cheeks flushed; she wrapped her arms around him again. "No, sorry. I…thought of something for work," she lied. "I guess I'm not very good at taking a break."

"Might I be able to help with that?" His hand moved to her waist.

"I'm picking up Henry today—I can't be late."

"How long do you have?"

"About an hour and a half…"

"Oh Swan," Killian said with that grin of his. "That's more than enough time to get you…sorted out." He tugged on the waistband of her jeans and started kissing her neck.

She closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations running through her. Why else had she come here, if not to have fun? And Killian…

…Killian was fun.

She let him lead her below decks to the captain's quarters. Their clothes were quickly discarded, and she spent the next hour in his embrace.

…

The first thing Regina did when she got home was pour herself a glass of wine and sit on her back porch.

She was exhausted.

It wasn't just from work and research, though that certainly played a part. Being with Robin was starting to require a lot of energy, whereas before it had always restored her. This realization upset her greatly, and hiding it took _more_ energy, and well…she was exhausted. And she had no idea what to do about it.

Regina had been burying herself in her work to hide from her feelings. Sometimes it worked. Today it had not.

She sipped her wine.

She hadn't slept with Robin in ages. There were convenient excuses—their children, their schedules. She was grateful for them, because the truth was much more difficult: the idea of sex with him had started to feel dishonest. A lie. Worry about what that could mean consumed her. After all, Robin was supposed to be her true love.

She found that her wine glass was already empty. As she headed back inside, she heard car doors slam and the sound of her son's footsteps racing up the walkway. She poured her second glass and waited for her family in the kitchen.

"Mom!" Henry shouted. "Look what Mom brought home!"

Regina raised an eyebrow at Emma, who was carrying three large bags from Granny's Diner. "What's all this?"

Henry beamed. "Fish 'n' chips."

Regina blinked and looked at the sheriff—she was so touched she was at a complete loss for words.

Emma shifted under her gaze. "I hope you didn't start dinner already. I didn't think to ask."

Regina swallowed and shook her head. Henry had started setting the table; she excused herself and went into the downstairs bathroom to splash cold water on her face.

The night of the fish fry was their first real outing as a family, and Regina had loved every second of it. She knew the ships were back today, but because there wasn't a festival she hadn't thought anything of it. But Emma clearly had.

Regina stared at her reflection in the mirror and finally admitted the truth to herself.

She loved her.

Not because Emma was family. Not because they were friends. She was _in_ love with her.

Regina pressed her forehead to the cool glass and closed her eyes. Things were not supposed to get this complicated.

"Hey Mom?" Henry's voice came from the other side of the door. "Are you coming?"

"Yes, Henry. Just a minute, please." Thankfully, her voice did not betray her. She patted her face dry, took a deep breath, and returned to the kitchen.

The scent of the fish brought back memories from that other evening, of kids playing and fire pits and s'mores. Of Emma taking her arm and leading her through the festival.

"Thank you for this," she said softly to the blonde, who handed her a plate.

Emma was all smiles for her. "You're welcome."

They listened during dinner to Henry's happy chattering about school and another project he was working on. Regina found that she couldn't keep her eyes off of Emma, who kept grinning whenever she caught the mayor looking her way.

"Can I choose the movie for tonight?" Henry asked.

"No way," Emma said. "Last time you fell asleep and neither of us had any idea what we were watching. You're watching a classic tonight."

Henry wrinkled his nose. "Like…black and white?"

"For your information, just because some movies are black and white doesn't mean they're not awesome, and second, relax, because it's not that old. AND it's a monster movie. You'll love it."

"What is it?"

"Beetlejuice." Emma started clearing plates. "I imagine your mom hasn't seen it either."

 _"Beetlejuice?"_ Regina said, incredulous. "What a name. I most certainly have not."

Emma seemed completely unfazed by Regina's attitude. "Then you guys should go in and start it. I've basically memorized it. I'll clean up."

Regina found herself curled on the couch with her son enjoying a ridiculous movie about the dead. Emma was quick with the dishes and joined them right after the car went into the river (to Regina's horror, at first: what kind of movie was Emma showing to their son?). Emma draped a blanket over them, but instead of joining them on the couch she sat in front of them on the floor and leaned back. Regina appreciated her choice; it allowed her to watch both the movie and the sheriff, whose enjoyment at sharing the movie with them was all over her face. Regina sighed and held her son closer.

She tried so hard to stay awake, but must have drifted off for awhile because Henry's shifting woke her up. "Pause it!" he said. "Gotta pee!" He ran down the hall. Regina pushed herself back into a sitting position and stretched.

Emma looked back at her. "Do you hate it?"

Regina was surprised. "Hate it? I…I love it." She smoothed the blanket over her lap. "I've just had a long day. But this is perfect."

"I'm so glad," Emma said quietly.

Henry came bounding back into the room and jumped on the couch, settling on the other end from Regina and stretching out his legs. "Mom, are you sure you don't want to sit up here?"

"I'm all right, Henry," Emma assured him as she hit play.

As Beetlejuice started to unleash hell on the living, Regina found herself drifting off again…until she felt Emma's head leaning against her legs. She woke up immediately at the contact. She hesitated for only a moment before allowing one hand to drift down into blonde hair. When Emma didn't move away, Regina let her fingers trace slow patterns in blonde locks. When Emma leaned into her touch, Regina's heart skipped a beat.

And then the movie was over. Emma jumped up as Henry did.

"That was awesome. Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome. I knew you'd love it." Regina detected a slight tremble in Emma's voice, even if their son did not. She stood up as well, and started to refold the blanket.

"We should probably head upstairs to bed," Regina said.

"Or," Henry said, wiggling his eyebrows, "we could make s'mores."

Regina shook her head and pulled him in, kissing him on his forehead. "Another night. I promise."

"All right."

Emma had already vanished up the stairs; Regina sighed and sent Henry up as well. She went around and cut off the remaining lights. She contemplated another drink on the back porch, but decided against it—she would have to go upstairs eventually. The evening would have to end, and she would have to start another day with a heart that was tearing itself in two. She bit her lip and tried to bury her emotions as she always had before. Her desk lamp had been left on in her study; she turned it off, and with a quiet sigh decided it was time to go up. She turned around and gasped; Emma was in the doorway.

"I'm so sorry," Emma said quickly, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"What do you want?" Regina said, in a rougher manner than she intended.

Emma's mouth opened but nothing came out. She closed it. Her hands searched for pockets that weren't there; she had changed into sweatpants and a tank top. She shook her head.

"What?"

Emma's voice, when it came, was barely more than a whisper. "Regina, I don't know." Silent tears were making their way down her face, and any wall Regina had tried to construct crumbled to dust at the sight.

"Please don't cry."

Emma threw up her hands. "I feel like I'm going crazy. I don't know what to do."

Regina closed the distance between them and wiped the tears from Emma's cheeks with gentle fingers. Emma reached up and placed her hands on hers; they looked deeply into each other's eyes and saw both the fear and the love reflected there.

"Yes you do," Regina whispered.

Emma swallowed and placed tentative hands on either side of Regina's face; she melted at the touch. Emma leaned in so slowly, and placed the softest kiss on her lips.

Regina thought her heart was going to hammer out of her chest.

She felt her own tears spring up, full of love, relief, worry…everything. Emma pulled her close; they were leaning against the door frame, holding, kissing, grateful to not feel alone…when the light switched on upstairs. They froze.

"Mom? Have you guys seen my comic book?"

Regina pushed away, but Emma kept a firm grip on her arm and called out, "I think it's in the living room, I'll bring it up."

"Thanks!"

Regina wiped the tears from her face and tried again to pull out of Emma's grip, to no avail. The other woman turned back to her and put both hands firmly on Regina's waist. "Thank you," Emma whispered.

Regina shook her head and gave a short, bewildered laugh. "For _what?"_

"For letting me know I'm not crazy." Emma kissed her once more before leaving Regina in her study.

Regina waited until she heard Henry settle. She waited until the sounds of a shower stopped, which meant Emma was in bed. She waited until she hadn't heard anything for a long time, and then she ascended the stairs and locked herself in her room.

She didn't turn on any lights, but she did draw herself a bath. She hoped the hot water and the darkness would calm her. There was a soft pitter-pattering against the windows; it was raining. She drew comfort from the sound, as well as from the low rolls of thunder in the distance. When the water cooled, she wrapped herself in her bathrobe and slipped under the covers. She watched the rain.

She didn't sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: I can't thank you guys enough. While I can't respond directly to the Anon reviews, please know I'm grateful and glad you guys are enjoying the story. Reaching over 100 follows and 25 favorites while doing NaNoWriMo at the same time is incredibly encouraging and awesome:) If you haven't already, please find me on tumblr at DushkuHasDibs

Our story starts its darker turn with this longer chapter. I hope you enjoy xo

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Emma woke up later than usual. Her bedroom was in almost total darkness, even though her phone told her it was ten o'clock. She pushed herself up, reluctantly, and saw that it was raining out. A thick layer of clouds had settled over Storybrooke, which on any other morning would have encouraged a long, cozy day.

But not today. Today Emma felt nauseous.

Part of her was relieved. She had shown Regina how she felt, and in those soft kisses she had learned she was not alone in her feelings. But…

But.

Now what?

Emma pulled her hair back and selected her jeans and sweater for the day. She couldn't think about that now. Now she was going to work. She and Regina would have to figure it out together.

Later.

The rest of the house was silent—Regina and Henry had already left for the day. Emma hesitated before checking the kitchen. There on the counter, wrapped in foil, was breakfast. Her heart soared. For the first time, there was a note attached to it; she picked it up. All that was written was "Good morning" in Regina's elegant script, but what it said to Emma was so much more. It said Regina hoped she would look for breakfast as she always did, that she wanted to just keep going, that she wasn't upset with her. Suddenly Emma was a lot less nauseous and a lot hungrier. She ate in the kitchen, enjoying the sound of the steady rainfall, and made herself some coffee in a travel mug. She pulled on her leather jacket, scarf, and knit hat, feeling a lot more optimistic than she had in weeks.

Some of that optimism vanished about twenty minutes later when her trusty bug promptly died on her; she pulled over and sighed. She didn't even bother trying to fix it herself—she knew the difference between her car's "quirks" and its "issues," and this was an issue. She whipped out her phone and called a tow truck.

"What happened here?" Leroy called out when he arrived.

"God knows," Emma said. "Hopefully Michael can figure it out today. I didn't know you drove for him."

Leroy shrugged as he hooked up the bug. "Sometimes. It's a favor today—Michael's actually closed."

Emma frowned. "It's Thursday."

"He said it was a family emergency, I said I'd help. I don't know the details."

Leroy drove Emma to the station; she got to work a little wetter than she'd anticipated and started shaking off her hat inside.

"I was just about to call you," David said as he stood up from his desk.

"Yeah, sorry I'm late. My car broke down and…"

"It's not that," David said. "There are other victims."

Emma's eyes went wide. "What?"

He looked devastated. "It's Michael Tillman's children, Ava and Nicholas. They're both unconscious."

…..

At the hospital, Emma tried her best not to punch something.

Unlike Grace, the Tillman children hadn't even made it to school—they had fallen into comas on the walk there. But, very much like Grace, no one could find any medical reason for their condition.

Two of them this time. What monster was silently living among them?

Michael was so upset the doctors had had to sedate him. Emma stared through the glass at them, her arms crossed and shoulders tensed. "This _has_ to be magic," she growled.

"Yes dear," came a very familiar voice. Regina was walking towards her, accompanied by David. "But as to what spell, I'm sorry to say we're still at a total loss."

Emma slid her hands in her pockets and hoped her cheeks weren't flushing too badly. She cleared her throat. "And Gold hasn't said anything illuminating to you?"

Regina shook her head. "He doesn't like being stumped. Frankly I've never known him to not have some kind of answer, at least an idea or a theory."

They had all spoken with Gold in the weeks since Grace's death, but Emma had to ask anyway, in the hopes that something had sparked a memory in the man. "What about the connection to the fire?"

"Even if there is a connection, any spells that use fire to consume souls involve starting the fire _first._ Grace fell into a coma days before the fire at your apartment."

David turned to Emma. "What do you think the odds are that another fire will be set?"

Emma bit her lip. It was a horrible thought: another fire would mean a definite pattern, and for Emma it would leave no doubt that someone in Storybrooke was attacking innocent children. "I think pretty high," she admitted, "even though we have no proof. Just a hunch."

"Proof isn't always 'proof' when it comes to magic anyway," Regina muttered.

"So what can we do?"

David crossed his arms. "Put a guard on Ava and Nicholas; maybe something happened to Grace while she was unconscious that we could have prevented, if we'd known. And we increase patrols, so we can have the fire department deployed at the first sign of smoke."

Emma nodded. "I'll try to find some connection between Jefferson and Michael; maybe they have a common enemy."

"They're good people. The only enemy they have is the one everyone in this town had at one point or another: me."

Emma's heart went out to Regina. "This has nothing to do with you."

"We don't know that," Regina said. "And we can't afford to rule anything out."

"Are you implying that you should be a suspect?" David asked, confused.

"Of course not," Regina snapped. "I'm just saying the only common ground these men had were their children and their hatred of me. If we're listing facts to hope to find a clue, those are the facts."

"Let's just do what we can for now," Emma said. "David, organize those patrols. Regina and I will check out the path the kids took to school and see if we can sense any magic." She turned to Regina. "Unless you have a better idea."

Regina frowned and shook her head.

"Let's go."

…

Regina drove slowly through the streets, looking for anything out of the ordinary along the route Ava and Nicholas had taken to school. Emma rode in the passenger seat. So far the drive had been a silent one, though neither woman had a problem with that.

The car swerved the slightest bit; Emma looked at Regina with concern. "Did you see something?"

"No."

Emma frowned and resumed looking out her window. When the car swerved again, she gasped. "Regina! What the hell?"

Regina pulled over, put the car in park, and put her hands over her face. "I'm sorry. I just need a minute." When she leaned back in her seat and sighed, Emma finally saw the dark circles under her eyes, the slump of her shoulders, and her unfocused gaze.

"Oh my god. Were you falling asleep?"

Regina clenched her teeth and didn't answer.

"I'm driving." Regina glared at her, but Emma was having none of it. "Not a request." She unbuckled her seat belt and got out of the car, jogged around to the driver's side and pulled Regina's door open. Regina wouldn't look at her as she switched to the passenger's seat, but she didn't fight her on the issue either. As they started off again, Emma softened her tone. "Didn't you get any sleep?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Regina's eyes flashed at her. "Are you serious? Why do you think?"

Emma's ears reddened.

"I'm so glad that one of us was unaffected enough by last night's events to sleep," Regina spat.

"Hey," Emma said quickly, "that's not fair. It's not true. I…was really affected. I just…" At a loss, she glanced at Regina; the other woman was seething. Emma bulldozed ahead. "Look, I had wanted to kiss you all day. So all day I was terrified that I would, _and_ that you'd hate me. Well I did, and you didn't, so…yeah. I slept. For the first time in days, ok?"

"Emma, stop."

"No way, not if you think for one minute that last night meant nothing to me…"

Regina sat up straighter. "No, I mean stop the car. There's something here."

The two women got out and ran to the sidewalk; Regina's eyes were darting back and forth, sensing something, but Emma felt nothing out of the ordinary.

"Here," Regina called. She was standing on the sidewalk just under a large tree; Emma joined her. "It's very faint, like an echo. It's as if it's starting to waft away." She pulled off her gloves, extended her hands, and closed her eyes. She tilted her head to the side, and Emma knew she was reaching with her magic as hard as she could. The sheriff placed a hand on her shoulder, hoping whatever magic she had to offer would strengthen the signal.

Regina's brow furrowed as her fingertips gently stirred the air. She opened her eyes.

She looked deeply confused.

"Regina…what is it?"

"It doesn't make any sense."

"Did you feel magic?"

"Yes, but…" Regina took a few steps around the tree, trying to pick up anything else. She didn't. She stood on the sidewalk, bewildered.

"Regina, what did you feel?"

She stared at Emma. "Light magic."

…

" _Light_ magic?" Mary Margaret exclaimed. "Regina, are you sure?"

They were at Gold's shop. Emma was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, radiating frustration. Regina stood across from David and Mary Margaret and tried to wrap her own brain around the situation.

"Yes," she said. "I'm quite sure. I feel even more lost than before."

"The more answers we get the more questions we end up with," David sighed.

"But…how is that possible?" Mary Marget started to pace. "Light magic comes from love. It shouldn't be anywhere near the site of an attack on children."

"Is it possible that a spell on the children was meant for a different purpose?" David asked. "Maybe someone is attempting some kind of protection spell and it's going horribly wrong."

Gold stepped forward. "I doubt it." As usual, his tone left no room for argument. "The intent of any spell is a huge part of how it works."

Regina frowned. "But we've all experienced magic that has worked out differently than we expected."

"Perhaps," he mused. "However, expectations and intent are two different things."

"How's that?" Emma groused. Regina raised an eyebrow at her, amused in spite of the serious conversation at Emma's particular brand of frustration. The blonde had less patience with being in the dark than Regina did.

Gold turned to her. "For example, Miss Swan, let us all recall the joy of the Dark Curse."

Regina crossed her arms; she was not eager to recall that at all.

Gold continued. "Our queen intended to take away everyone's happiness, and she certainly did. But, she expected that she herself would be quite happy in her new world, and for a time she seemed to be. However, as with most quests for vengeance, she was left slightly less than satisfied."

"But," Mary Margaret objected, "She intended to be happy…didn't she?"

Gold shook his head. "She intended for others to suffer. She did not cast a spell for happiness—she cast a curse for misery."

Emma sighed. "You're splitting hairs."

Gold narrowed his eyes at her. "It is an important distinction, Sheriff. Whether or not you believe me doesn't change the facts."

David stepped forward. "So you're saying someone is hurting these children on purpose."

"Yes."

"But," Regina said slowly, "You're also saying this person is hurting them out of…love?"

"Yes, I'm sorry to say."

Emma looked as if she was going to explode. _"That_ is not something that should be possible with light magic." She started to pace. " _That_ is the kind of thing abusers and other criminals spout, _not_ people capable of light magic." She stormed out of the shop. Regina wanted to follow her, but Mary Margaret beat her to it, and Gold had a hand on her arm.

"I do believe it is more complicated than that, of course. I don't have the answers. But I do think that when we figure out the _how,_ we'll figure out the _why."_

David nodded. "Regina, you've given us more information than we've had in weeks. We'll figure it out."

Mary Margaret came back into the shop, a disappointed look on her face. "She…didn't want to talk."

Regina eyed the counter where Emma had been leaning and saw that the car keys were still there.

….

"Get in," she called from the driver's window.

Emma didn't even break her stride. "I don't want to talk!"

"I don't want to drive into a lamppost," Regina yelled back, "Or did you forget I was falling asleep at the wheel earlier?" At that, Emma slowed, then finally stopped. She walked back to the car with her arms crossed. Regina didn't say anything as she slipped out and into the passenger seat, and Emma got behind the wheel.

To her credit, the sheriff didn't drive angry; if anything, she was overly cautious as they made their way home. Emma parked in front of the mansion, turned off the car, and leaned back in her seat.

"Are you coming in?" Regina asked gently.

Emma shook her head.

"Do you want to talk about it now?"

Emma's voice was smaller than Regina had ever heard it. "I just can't accept what Gold said, that someone wielding light magic can hurt a child out of love. It goes against everything I believe in. I know too many people, from my personal life and my work, who have said 'I hurt you because I love you.' And I know too many people who have thought those words were true."

"I thought they were true," Regina confessed. "That was basically my mother's creed, and I was desperate for her love. She used my feelings for her as a weapon to manipulate and punish me. It took Henry showing me time and again that love wasn't what I'd always thought it was before I truly understood."

"But your mother never wielded light magic. And until you understood love…neither did you."

"Well, Gold suggested this is much more complicated than we think."

Emma bit her lip. "But whoever this person is, one thing is true: they are the worst kind of monster. They hurt children and call it love."

Regina took Emma's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "We'll find them. Together."

Emma looked down at their hands. "You should get some rest."

"Are you going back to the station?"

Emma nodded. "I need to organize the patrols with David and set up rotating guards for Ava and Nicholas at the hospital. And I'll pick up Henry later. And dinner."

"Let me worry about dinner." Regina moved her hand to Emma's shoulder and played with a loose strand of blonde hair. "Would you do me a favor?"

Emma's eyes met her own. "Sure."

"Please be careful."

Regina held her breath as Emma took her hand in hers and placed a gentle kiss on her fingers. "I promise."

Regina nodded, and unsure of what else to do, she reluctantly withdrew her hand and stepped out of the car. She would see Emma later, as well as their son, and they all had enough to worry about without adding her physical exhaustion to the list.

…

The rain created a challenge, certainly, but one that could be overcome. It had to be—there was always a limited window of time in which to work, and it was rapidly closing.

…

"What's going to happen to them?" Henry asked from the passenger seat. Emma glanced at him and saw the worry on his face.

"I don't know, kid. But I can tell you they have a guard right in their hospital room with them, and we have Storybrooke's finest patrolling all the streets. If there's something to see, we'll see it."

"Is someone trying to hurt all of the kids in town?"

Emma clenched the steering wheel. "Nothing is going to happen to you."

"How can you say that if you don't know what it is? It might want to hurt everyone."

Emma parked in front of the mansion and turned to face him. "Your mom and I are not going to let anything happen to you. Okay?"

Henry shrugged; it broke her heart.

"Hey—we always save you. And we always will. That's a promise."

"Okay."

"Come on. Let's go see what Regina's making us for dinner."

It was lasagna, much to the sheriff's delight. Henry ran upstairs to wash up; Emma sat down right at the island in the kitchen, ready to eat. Regina raised an eyebrow. "I thought tonight we'd attempt to eat like civilized human beings—the dining room is set."

"Great." Frankly Emma didn't care where they ate as long as the food was good. But when she saw the dining setup, she paused. There were wine glasses for each of them, ornate salt and pepper grinders, and intricately carved wooden trivets. She watched Regina set out a crackling loaf of garlic bread before snapping out of her reverie. "Do you need any help?"

"No, thank you."

Emma didn't feel right taking a seat without either Henry or Regina, so she stood in the doorway with her hands in her pockets. A shiver ran up her spine and brought a smile to her lips as Regina brushed past her, cloth napkins in hand, and let a hand linger on the blonde's waist.

"I thought of something you could do for me, Swan."

Emma straightened up. "Yes?"

Regina sauntered back over to her and lowered her voice. "You could step out of the doorway so I can carry the lasagna through without incident."

Emma swallowed and stepped out of the way, aroused by the tone of the other woman's voice. Fortunately for her self-control, Henry came bounding down the stairs and into the dining room; they both sat down.

Dinner was magnificent. Emma allowed herself a glass of wine, but when Regina started to pour her another, she held up a hand to stop her. "I'd love to, but I have to drive later."

Regina frowned. "Where are you going?"

"I'm one of the ones patrolling tonight. David's going to pick me up around eleven. We'll stay out until around four, then head back."

"Oh. I didn't know." Regina sat back down. "I should have guessed."

Emma suddenly looked at the nicer table settings and wondered if Regina had meant for dinner to mean more than just dinner. She wondered if she had taken a wrong step in their careful dance. "I'm sorry, I thought you knew I'd be part of the rotation."

"It's quite all right. At least I can send you off with a good meal." Regina pushed her chair back and stood. "I'm going to check on dessert."

Emma's eyes followed her as she left the room; she blinked back to reality when she realized Henry was watching her. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Do I have something in my teeth?"

"Nope."

"Then what is it?"

He shrugged. "It's nothing."

She was going to press the issue, but Regina returned with what looked like brownie sundaes for all of them.

"Good guess," Regina said, "But no. They're lava cakes."

"I love those!" Henry said. "They're all chocolate goo on the inside. It's hot, but the ice cream cools it down."

Emma's smile was broad; she shook her head. "Regina, you were supposed to catch up on sleep today, not do all of this. Not that I'm not grateful…"

"Relax," Regina assured her. "It took much less time than you think. Enjoy."

She did enjoy it. The cake literally melted in her mouth; she did her best not to inhale it, but she was still finished too soon for her liking. "Wow," she sighed. "This…this was really great. Thank you."

Regina sipped her wine in an attempt to hide her smile. "You're welcome."

"I'm really glad we all live together," Henry announced. His mothers froze, but he paid them no mind. "I know you both thought it was ridiculous at first, and even though no one's talking about it, it seems to be working, and Emma hasn't talked about moving out so…" He shrugged. "So I thought I'd talk about it, and tell you I really like it, and I hope it stays this way." He pushed his chair back and grabbed his plates. "Dinner was delicious, Mom. I'm gonna go do my homework." He left.

Emma and Regina stared at each other, momentarily speechless.

Regina cleared her throat and gathered her plates. "Well, that was certainly very…Henry."

Emma followed her into the kitchen and watched as Regina started washing the dishes; she grabbed a towel to help. "You know, Regina…I don't always know what it is I'm doing. Or maybe what it is that we're doing. You know what I mean?"

Regina didn't answer her.

"Regina?"

"Yes," she said sharply, and then a little more gently: "Yes. I know what you mean."

"Ok, well…" Emma searched desperately for the right words. "I don't know what everything means, but I really like living here. And Henry's right, we haven't talked about it, but…I'd like to stay."

She waited for Regina's response, watching her every move. The other woman put the dish she was washing in the rack to dry and placed her hands on the counter. She took a deep breath, picked up the next dish and said, "Good. Then I guess we're all in agreement."

Emma's heart swelled, silencing the little voice in her mind that whispered _What about Killian, what about Robin, what are we actually agreeing to…?_

They were agreeing not to stop.

David picked her up at eleven as promised. Emma looked from the squad car back to their front door, where Regina and Henry stood framed in the doorway to see them off. Regina had her arms around their son, who waved.

Emma waved back.

"Are you feeling better?" her father asked.

"Yeah," she said as they turned a corner. "It's just hard not to get emotional about this case. Has there been any news?"

"So far it's been a quiet night."

"Let's hope it stays that way."

They made their way up and down the sleepy streets, up and down. They drove past the library, the school, the harbor. The pawn shop, the mayor's office, the diner. They drove to the town line, turned around, and started all over again.

It was around one o'clock in the morning when they saw the smoke—David hit the gas while Emma grabbed the radio. The fire department arrived less than two minutes after they did, at Gold's shop.

They leapt out of the cruiser to try to keep back the crowd that had formed, awakened by the sirens.

The firefighters made quick work of the fire; perhaps the wood, wet from the day's rain, hadn't made the best kindling, or perhaps they'd just caught it in plenty of time, or both, but the shop fared much better than the apartment building had. Unfortunately, no one had seen anyone at the scene who could have started the fire.

Emma sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She pulled out her phone and called the hospital; she was immediately put through to the guard on duty.

"Sheriff Swan?"

"The fire's out, it barely got a chance to start. Please tell me…"

"Sheriff, we just lost them. There wasn't any warning, nothing about their condition had changed, they just…the machines all started going off at once, and Dr. Whale is trying to bring them back but…Ava and Nicholas are dead."

…

Like the first time, there were reports to be filled out. There were calls to make. There was a parent who was beside himself with grief. There were plans to be made. There was an investigation to run.

When Emma finally made it home and saw the light on in the living room, and opened the door to find Regina sitting on the couch in her robe, clearly waiting up for her, she found she had no energy left to pretend anymore that everything would be okay. Without a word the tears started to fall; she made her way to the couch, and into the arms of the woman who held her tight as she cried herself to sleep.

…

 _In the darkest hours of the night, Alta was awoken from her slumber by Jonna's strong hand on her shoulder. Before she could ask what was going on, the woman put a finger to her lips and motioned for Alta to follow her. Alta frowned and did as requested. Jonna led her through the tavern to the back entrance, where Scott was waiting with a younger man. The visitor was twisting his hat in his hands and was soaked to the bone._

 _"What's going on?" Alta whispered._

 _Scott put a hand on the man's back and cleared his throat. "Mr. Sarkin has come here to ask for our help. For his mother."_

 _Sleep still blurred Alta's mind and she looked to Jonna for answers. "Does she need food? Light? Warmth? I…I think I might have a few more candles in the saddle bags; they weren't as well-made as the others, but I could send one with you for…"_

 _"No dear," Jonna said quietly. "Mother Sarkin is ill."_

 _Alta's mind cleared immediately and she pressed her lips together. She stared hard at Jonna._

 _They needed her other magic._

 _The younger man spoke up, his voice laden with despair. "She's dying, Miss Alta. There's no mistake about that, and nothing to be done for it. But it's the pain she's in, Miss."_

 _Alta's eyes went to Scott's. He nodded at her. "She's been trying to leave this realm for weeks. There's no tea that can help her. We send food to the family, and she's able to eat and drink just enough that…"_

 _"Her spirit is strong," Alta said quietly._

 _The young man smiled, proud but sad. "Yes, Miss. She's asked for help. But I can't see her hurt, and…and I heard that…"_

 _"I'll be right along. Scott, perhaps you could lend Mister Sarkin a new cloak while Jonna and I fetch our own?"_

 _Scott nodded and led the young man out the door. Alta whirled on Jonna, prepared to unleash her anger at her, but when she saw the wetness in her friend's eyes she softened immediately and placed a hand on the woman's arm. "What is it?"_

 _Jonna wiped her eyes. "Ebel Sarkin is one of my dearest friends in this world, Alta. She's strong as an ox, and could go on another month like this. If she's asked for help, I know she needs it. And I know what it is to ask you, I do."_

 _Alta held her friend in a tight embrace. "The family can't tell anyone."_

 _"They wouldn't, Alta, I swear it. I never would have said we could help otherwise."_

 _Alta went behind the bar to retrieve her cloak and the small black box. She clenched her teeth and pushed the box deep into a pocket. She had only used its contents a handful of times in her life, and she remembered every one. The last time was six years ago with her own father._

 _She met the others at the back door and they pushed through the billowing snow to the Sarkin home; fortunately the family lived within the town so they weren't in the elements long._

 _Mr. Sarkin led them through the front door and up the stairs to a large bedroom; a woman Alta took to be Ebel Sarkin was lying on the bed, surrounded by other members of the Sarkin family. They cleared a path for her. An aunt instructed an older cousin to take the younger children from the room. Apparently they had told the children that a seer had told the family that Mother Sarkin's time had come. There weren't any questions._

 _Jonna knelt with Alta on one side of the bed and took Ebel Sarkin's frail hand in hers. "Hello dear friend," she whispered._

 _Ebel grunted, her voice soft but strong. "Is it too late to leave our husbands for each other, like we always talked about?"_

 _This produced a loud laugh from Jonna (and the husbands in question), who leaned over and kissed her friend on the cheek. "Not yet."_

 _"Well," Ebel rattled, "I suppose it's time for me to leave you all, actually." Her glassy eyes focused on Alta. "This is the one? She's so young."_

 _Alta hadn't said a word, her own eyes filling with tears at what was about to transpire. A cool, dry hand reached out and touched her face._

 _"You only see the burden, of course," Ebel Sarkin said softly. "That's your youth, you can't help it. Please believe me, child, when I tell you: you are giving me the biggest gift of my life."_

 _Alta let the tears fall, and nodded gratefully at the old woman. She pulled the black box from her cloak, took a deep breath, and opened the lid. The family gathered as close to the bed as they could squeeze as Alta removed a match from the box, closed her eyes, and focused on Mother Sarkin._

 _"I love you all," Ebel whispered._

 _Alta struck the match._

 _Mother Sarkin's body was suddenly nothing more than that; it was still breathing, its heart still beating faintly, but Ebel wasn't there. Her soul danced in the flame on the quickly burning match._

 _Alta held out the match to the elder Mister Sarkin, who took it gently and held it in front of his face. "I love you, my girl," he said._

 _And then he blew it out._


	9. Chapter 9

AN: This was my favorite chapter to write; I hope you enjoy. Thanks as always for reading xoxo

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"Mom?"

As Regina was pulled from the thick fog of sleep by her son's voice, she tried to rub her eyes and realized her hands were pinned. There was a heavy weight on her chest, on her whole body really. She groaned and forced her eyes open. Emma was asleep on top of her, and Regina's hands were tangled in the blanket that had been wrapped around them both. Her eyes were wide open now as she freed her hands and pushed her hair out of her face, very aware that Henry was still looking at her.

"Henry," she said, her voice thick. He was pulling at the bottom of his pajama shirt. "What is it?"

He bit his lip. "They're dead, aren't they? That's why you guys are down here."

Regina closed her eyes, both selfishly relieved that he wasn't upset at his mothers snuggling together, and also heartbroken for him. "Yes. I'm sorry."

He nodded and sat at the end of the couch, still twisting his shirt in his hands.

Their movements woke Emma, who seemed just as temporarily disoriented as Regina had been. Regina swallowed and placed a hand on her back. "Emma, Henry knows things didn't go well last night."

Emma blinked and pushed herself up; she ran a hand through Henry's hair. "They didn't," she said quietly. "I'm sorry. We thought we stopped the fire in time."

Henry nodded again and wrapped his arms around her.

"Tell you what," Regina said as she sat up. "I think the two of you should stay right here and put on some cartoons. I'm going to make pancakes."

Henry wiped his eyes and looked at her. "What about school?"

She leaned across Emma to kiss him. "No school today. I want you with us."

It took Regina slightly longer than usual to whip up breakfast; she kept interrupting herself to peek in on Emma and Henry, who were cuddled up under the blanket watching TV.

Her heart ached.

As the mayor and the sheriff of Storybrooke, she and Emma had the full weight of responsibility on their shoulders for the loss of two more children. Their investigations had yielded no real answers. They didn't even know enough to provide any kind of useful warning or preventions. They would have to have a town meeting, or make some kind of statement, even though there was no way they could assure people these killings wouldn't continue. She didn't know how to protect her own son, which chilled her to the bone.

And on top of all of that, there was another meeting she had to have, sooner rather than later.

She arranged three plates of pancakes and bacon, took a deep breath, and brought her family breakfast. Henry raised his eyebrows at her. "Syrup? In here? Near the rug?"

Regina gave him a wry smile. "It better not get near the rug." Her eyes went to Emma, who had moved herself to the far end of the couch and was staring blankly at the television. "Emma, why don't you help me with the coffee?"

Emma blinked at her and nodded, following her into the kitchen. Regina already had the mugs of coffee prepped, and Henry's juice ready to go. Emma looked at her in confusion. "I thought you needed help."

Regina placed a tentative hand on her waist. "I needed to talk to you. Why don't you go upstairs to bed?"

Emma shook her head. "I'm fine."

"You look like you're going to fall over."

Emma put her hands on Regina's arms and squeezed. "I'm not. I want to stay down here, with you." Her brow furrowed. "Uh…with both of you."

"I understand." Regina brought her other hand up to Emma's hair; Emma closed her eyes at the touch. Regina hesitated for only the briefest of moments before she cupped Emma's face and leaned in to kiss her.

She felt the blonde inhale sharply, then place her strong hands on Regina's back to pull her closer.

When Emma had gotten home in the early hours of the morning, Regina had watched the broken shell of the woman she knew go through the motions of pulling off her jacket and kicking off her boots. There hadn't been words, not at first. First there had been Emma collapsing into her arms, and Regina wiping her tears as they fell and murmuring gentle nothings into blonde hair. When Emma's words came, they spilled out of her, a rush of fears and failures and regrets, and Regina had soothed her by holding her even tighter, until the savior was completely drained of words and tears and had fallen asleep, wrapped up in Regina's arms. It had been one of the most intimate moments of Regina's life.

She pulled back now to gaze into green eyes that were still so full of worry. "You are not alone in this," she whispered.

Their tender, stolen moment was interrupted once again by their son, who called out from the other room, "Are you guys coming back? Can I start eating?"

"Go ahead," Regina said, "We'll be right there."

Emma grabbed her coffee mug and Henry's juice.

Regina cleared her throat. "You know how you had me rest the other day, while you took care of everything?"

"Sure."

"Would you let me take care of the masses for you, today? You should just stay here with Henry."

Emma looked at her gratefully and nodded. "Ok. Maybe I'll rest a little. But after breakfast."

…..

Regina couldn't get close enough to the police station to park; she left her Benz in an alley behind Granny's Diner and walked to meet the mob head-on. Fortunately, David and Mary Margaret were out front, trying to control the panic. She noticed the dwarves, Granny, and Ruby helping as well.

"Please," Mary Margaret was shouting, "if you could all just quiet down and…"

"And what?" A woman cried. Regina recognized her as the mother of one of Henry's classmates. "We should all just wait politely and calmly while our children die?"

David stood on a planter. "Of course not, but we can't panic and…"

"Listen to him!" Shouted another voice. "Easy to say when your child is the savior and your grandchild is the truest believer."

"What about the normal kids?"

"Now hang on a minute," Ruby growled.

"They don't even care about our children!"

"Enough!" Regina bellowed; she added a blast of magic that forced an opening in the crowd for good measure. She strode through. "How dare you accuse David and Mary Margaret of not caring about you. They're the only ones who _always_ care, no matter how ungrateful and panicked you get in return." She stared out into the sea of angry faces; at least they were quieter. "You already know we have nothing to tell you; you are making the situation worse. Michael Tillman needs your help—he is completely lost and devastated. He has to plan a funeral for both of his children. Are you going to let him do it alone? Are you going to forget his pain because of your worry?" David helped her up onto the planter he'd been standing on. She glared at the crowd. "We are terrified for all of our children. We are all frightened. But we are researching. We are investigating. We haven't made any breakthroughs, no. But we aren't going to find solutions any faster by throwing up our hands and worrying ourselves and our children to death. And we need your help. We need you to think back in your own family histories, both here and in the Enchanted Forest, where anything even remotely like this may have occurred. Because this is not magic that any of us know…which means it was kept a secret." She watched as that thought sank in with the townspeople. "But someone has this magic. And someone else has to know about it." She held up her hands. "This doesn't mean we turn against each other…it means we try to remember, because this magic isn't new. It's very, very old." She shook her head. "It has to be. Now please, go home. Or go help Michael. And think through your own family histories for anything…strange."

She climbed down from the planter and entered the police station, with David and Mary Margaret close behind her.

"That was a quality speech," Mary Margaret said, impressed.

Regina sank into a chair. "Yes, well…it was about to get pretty bad out there."

"Where's Emma?" David asked.

"Home, with Henry."

Mary Margaret looked worried. "How is she?"

Regina sighed. "She's been better. She's not handling this well, but…I think with some rest she'll be able to rejoin us later."

Mary Margaret nodded and wrapped her arms around her husband. Granny, Ruby, and Leroy came into the room.

"Great speech, sister…Madame Mayor," Leroy quickly corrected.

"They've dispersed," Granny announced. She leaned against the doorway. "We really don't know anything, do we?"

Regina shook her head.

"You're right though," David said quietly. "Everyone needs to think back to any strange magic they remember seeing. Maybe a distant relative had power over fire, I don't know."

"Do I even need to ask about the fire department's report?" Regina asked him.

David sighed. "The fire started with another candle."

Ruby frowned. "Then why didn't you ask people to focus on candle magic, specifically?"

"Because it really could be any magic," Regina said. "Just like the fire is meant to look like an accident, the magic may be disguised as well. For all we know the candle is throwing us all off." She rubbed her temples. "I'm sorry but…if that's all we have right now, there's somewhere I need to be."

….

"Regina!" Robin beamed. He enveloped her in a huge hug; Regina closed her eyes and melted into his embrace, knowing it was going to be the last time. When she pulled back, he noticed the unshed tears in her eyes. "What's the matter?"

"I need to talk to you." She looked around his campsite where they were already getting curious glances. "Preferably somewhere a little more private."

"Of course." He took her hand and led her away from the camp.

Regina felt her heart tearing. She loved him. He had essentially been _delivered_ to her, her true love, fairy-approved, the real deal. Part of her couldn't believe what she was about to do. The selfish part. The rest of her knew she had no choice.

They ended up in a small clearing; Robin sat on a log and Regina perched next to him, still holding his hand. The tears were no longer unshed; he wiped one from her cheek. "Regina, please…what's troubling you?"

"That I love you," she whispered.

"And why is that causing such sadness?" he said kindly.

"Because." She felt ill, but she had to keep going. She owed him that. "Because something has happened. And I can't be with you anymore."

"What?" He blinked, bewildered. "But…Regina, what do you mean? What's happened? I promise you, we'll figure it out together."

She shook her head. "No. It's not fair to you. It's…"

"Let me be the judge of that. I beg you." He dropped to his knees in front of her and took both of her hands in his. "Let me decide what's fair to me, and you just tell me what the problem is. Please."

She shook her head again.

"Regina, please…"

"I love someone," she whispered. Her tears fell freely now. "Someone else."

His eyes searched her face for some sign that what she was saying was something she didn't mean…but she did mean it, of course. "But…Regina, we're…we're meant for each other. I love you."

She clenched her teeth; it hurt worse than she'd prepared for. She should have pulled out her heart first.

But that wouldn't have been right, either.

"I love you, and I know that you love me," Robin continued. "You said that's why you're upset, so…we'll get through this."

"Robin…"

"We will. I'm not giving up." Almost as an afterthought, he said, "Who is it?"

Regina swallowed; her face flushed. "That doesn't matter."

"Of course it does."

"It doesn't. What matters is it's not right if I continue to be with you when I have these feelings for someone else."

He stood, distressed, and ran a hand through his hair. "Who is it?"

"Robin, please…"

"But who could it possibly be? You're not really friendly with any other men in town. And when you're not working you're either with me or your family, so…" He stopped and looked at her. His mouth dropped open. "Oh."

She couldn't meet his gaze; she crossed her arms and turned away as he slowly sat down next to her. "It's Emma," he said quietly.

Regina said nothing.

They sat next to each other, staring into the woods. Regina occasionally brushed tears from her face.

"It makes sense, I suppose." He threw a rock into the trees. "Poetic." He turned to her. "Does she feel as you do?"

Her face crumpled. "I think so."

"Is she still with Killian?"

She tried to glare at him for bringing that up, but found she couldn't. Her heart sank. "Technically."

He put a hand on hers. "Regina…"

"It doesn't matter," she insisted. "I know how I feel, Robin. I'm doing what I need to do. She'll…she'll do whatever she needs to do for herself. It's not her highest priority right now."

"I heard about the children," he said quietly. "I'm so sorry."

"Thank you."

"Thank you for telling me," he said softly. "About your feelings."

She turned away from him. "You're welcome doesn't seem like the right thing to say."

"I just want you to be happy. I had really wanted for you to find happiness with me, of course…"

"Robin, it wasn't about that, I…"

He held up a hand, a sad smile on his face. "I know. What I'm trying to say is I'll never stand in your way. I love you, Regina. And I know you love me too. But if you have a chance to be with…well, to be with the mother of your child…I know what that's like, too." He took her hand. "It's wonderful beyond words."

She threw her arms around him; he held her tightly.

"You'll forgive me, of course, when I'm less pleasant about this when I see you together than I am managing to be right now?"

She kissed his cheek, sadly. "You're incredible. I'm so sorry, Robin."

"I know. Now please, leave me alone so I can cry openly in the woods before going back to camp."

She felt horrible, but nodded. She started to take a different route out of the woods so she didn't have to go back through his camp; at the bend, she turned to look at him once more. He was watching her leave, so she gave a small and grateful wave.

He blew her a kiss.

…..

Emma's cell phone woke her later in the afternoon. She blinked as she got her bearings; she was in her room, and Henry was at the foot of the bed reading comic books. He smiled at her.

"Hello?" she said as she ruffled his hair.

"I'm sorry," came her father's voice. "I know you're resting today. But Gold called—he thinks he found something."

"I'll head right over." She glanced at Henry. "Do you think Mary Margaret could watch Henry? Regina's not home yet and we don't want him left alone."

"I want to come," Henry said immediately.

"No," she mouthed. To David she said, "Great. I'll swing by there first and meet you at Gold's shop after that." She hung up and looked at her son. "Sorry kid, not on this case."

"Will you at least tell me if you find out anything good? I can help too."

"I promise, if there's anything actually helpful over there, I'll tell you all about it."

"Okay!"

"Now scoot so I can take a quick shower and not look entirely like hell."

"Okay." He gathered his comic books and left.

She showered and slipped into jeans and a tank top, but hesitated before pulling on the sweater she'd selected. Feeling very much like a schoolgirl with a crush, she snuck into the hall and darted into Regina's room. A quick search yielded a lightweight, deep purple sweater that not only looked beautiful against golden hair, but smelled like Regina. Emma's cheeks flushed at her own childishness as she slipped it on. If Henry asked, she'd say she was out of clean sweaters.

He didn't ask.

…..

"Have you discovered any reason for the fires being set _where_ they've been set?" Gold asked them.

Emma shook her head. "They seem as random as the children chosen, or the times they've been attacked."

He nodded. "I feel in this case the fire may have been set to cover up a theft."

David's brow furrowed. "What's missing?"

"A small black box."

Emma spread her hands when he didn't continue. "Okay. What does it do."

Gold help up a finger. "I don't know."

Emma and David exchanged a look. "You don't know?" she said. "You have something here when you don't even know what it does?"

"Correction: I had something here. And what troubles me is I wouldn't even have known it was missing were it not for the fire. Belle and I were doing inventory to determine the extent of the damage; we lost a couple of items of little consequence: a few combustion-happy crystals, some scrolls that had mostly been copied into other books. But the box wasn't destroyed. In fact, it wasn't kept near the area of the fire. It was kept back here," he pointed, "with some of my most dangerous artefacts."

David frowned. "If you don't know what it does how did you know it was dangerous?"

Gold looked at him as though he were a complete imbecile. "Because if the Dark One doesn't know what it is, dearie…it's probably dangerous."

"And it was stolen last night?" Emma asked.

"I'm not sure," Gold admitted. "In fact, it's quite possible it was stolen a long time ago."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because," he said, "It was a matchbox."

Emma's eyes went wide.

"I thought you didn't know what it was?" David said, exasperated.

Gold glared. "I don't know what it _does._ The matches inside wouldn't light. What use is it? When it first came into my possession, I tried striking them on the box, throwing them into an already-burning fire, lighting them with magic. Nothing. They simply wouldn't light."

"But somehow," Emma sighed, "they seem like a natural part of our confusing case."

Gold pointed at her. "That's what I thought."

Emma leaned on the counter and put her face in her hands. "So we have candles with no markings or other distinguishing features found at both sites. We have three children dead with no symptoms and possible soul theft. We have missing matches that wouldn't light." She stood up and groaned. "Anything else?"

David crossed his arms. "Light magic residue."

"Great. Perfect," Emma huffed.

Gold drummed his fingers on the countertop. "I do think the matches may be your key," he said.

"Why?" Emma asked.

"Because as you said—the candles don't stand out. Nothing else about the situation has stood out at all. The children aren't necessarily connected; neither are the sites of the fires. But the matchbox…that's something. My guess is whoever it belonged to has taken it back."

"Do you remember who you got it from?" David asked.

Gold shook his head. "Alas, it simply appeared in my shop like so many other magical items when our town's various curses hit."

"So it does belong to someone in town," Emma said slowly.

"Someone who, unbeknownst to any of us, has light magic. I would go so far as to assume that he or she can also use the contents of the box."

David shifted his weight uncomfortably. "After Regina's rousing speech today, whoever it is might be feeling a little desperate."

Emma blinked. "Regina made a speech?"

"She basically asked all of the townspeople to dig deep in their family histories and their own memories for any strange magic they remember witnessing. Maybe it will yield something. If I had a secret magic power, and thought even one person might recall something…"

"…you'd want to keep everyone on the defensive." Emma closed her eyes.

Gold had watched their exchange silently. He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Tread lightly, Savior."

….

Emma went back to her parents' loft for dinner, something she hadn't done in a while. She tried to enjoy her little brother's giggles and her son chattering with his grandparents, but she was still so emotionally swamped. She realized she hadn't heard from Regina all day and she frowned. She checked her phone; no messages.

Mary Margaret put a hand on her arm. "Emma?"

"Sorry," she said, putting away her phone. "I just…have you guys heard from Regina?"

Her mother looked at David and shook her head. "Not since she helped us at the police station. She said she had somewhere to be."

Emma frowned. "She didn't say where?"

"Well, no. But it's Regina, so that's not really unusual." Mary Margaret cocked her head at her daughter. "Or is it?"

"I guess not, but…actually, yeah, it is a little unusual. Recently," Emma added. "Between our investigations and Henry I tend to hear from her a few times a day."

"Well maybe she met up with Robin," David said as he started clearing their plates.

Emma bristled and hoped her ears weren't as red as she felt they were.

"That's probably it," Mary Margaret said with a smile. "You've both been so busy; sometimes you have to grab some romance when you can."

Emma pulled her phone back out. "Maybe." The last text she had gotten from Regina had been the night before, only an hour into her patrol with her father. It simply said Please be careful. Meanwhile she realized there were several messages from Killian that had gone unanswered; her stomach twisted.

"I told her we were here," Henry said. "I left her a voicemail, but I didn't hear back."

"I'm going to check on her," Emma announced. She stood up and grabbed her coat. At her parents' startled expressions, she said, "I know it's probably nothing, but I want to make sure. She's probably just buried under books in her study or her vault. And you…" She kissed Henry's cheek. "Why don't you stay for dessert and I'll see you at home later?"

"Will you let me know if something's wrong?"

"Of course. I promise."

"Emma…" Mary Margaret caught her as she exited to the hallway. "Is there something going on?"

"What?" Emma pulled on her coat, slightly flustered. "No. What do you mean?"

"I mean…" Mary Margaret pulled the door shut behind her so they wouldn't be overheard. "Is Regina struggling with all of this? The loss of the children, the unanswered questions. Is she…reverting to bad habits?"

Emma felt a flood of relief. "Mom, no. It's nothing like that, we've just…we made a promise to Henry to take care of each other, because sometimes we forget to take care of ourselves. We'll forget to eat, we'll forget to sleep…"

"Emma…"

"Mom, it's okay. Really. We keep each other in check. That's why I need to find her." She gave her mother a hug. "I know she'd find me too."

Mary Margaret released her, reluctantly. "All right."

Emma ran down the stairs and hopped in her sheriff's cruiser; she took a moment to collect herself before starting the car.

Was she overreacting? Regina had intended for her to rest all day, after all; maybe she just hadn't wanted to disturb her. And what if she actually was out with Robin…the man who was supposed to be her true love? What was Emma supposed to do about that?

She gritted her teeth and started the car.

Nothing. There was nothing she could do about that. All she could do was follow her instincts, and they told her that radio silence from Regina all day couldn't be a good thing.

It was a short drive to the mansion; as soon as she turned the corner Emma could see Regina's car parked out front, though she couldn't decide if that was a good or a bad thing. Of course the presence of the car didn't guarantee that Regina would be inside—magic could have taken her anywhere in Storybrooke. Emma sighed. She was getting ahead of herself. She parked and started up the walk.

There weren't any lights on, but the front door was unlocked. She frowned, and realized belatedly that Regina might not be alone. Emma crept to the top of the staircase and listened; she didn't want to walk in on Robin making love to Regina ever again. She felt a stirring within herself, jealousy and arousal, and tried to push it away; the idea of him on top of her, now that she knew how it felt to be in her arms, drove her crazy.

Fortunately, she heard nothing. She made her way back downstairs; the study and the living room were both empty and dark. There were some cabinets open in the unlit kitchen, a corkscrew on the counter. Emma saw the back door was slightly ajar; she went to it and opened it further.

Regina was sitting on the porch steps, wine glass in hand. The bottle was next to her. She was staring out into the yard; if she had heard Emma, she showed no sign. She wasn't wearing a jacket but seemed unaffected by the cold.

Emma wanted very much to go to her and provide what comfort she could, but something about Regina's stillness told her to stay away. She swallowed and pulled the door shut.

At least the other woman wasn't hiding, or hurt. Emma decided to turn on the kitchen light; then Regina would know she was home at least, and wouldn't be startled or disturbed. Emma busied herself with closing the cabinets and putting away the corkscrew, and switching on a few other soft lights around the mansion to show some signs of life. Not content to let things be, she sent Regina a quick text— _I'm home. I missed you today._ She decided to make herself useful and settled in the study; she pulled a dusty tome from the shelf and started researching.

Less than a minute later her phone started to vibrate—Killian was calling her. She sighed and answered the phone. "Hey."

"I missed you too, love. Did you need me to come and pick you up?"

"What?" Emma said, deeply confused.

"Your message; you missed me? I miss you too. I figured you were telling me because you needed a lift to a pirate ship."

Emma frowned and glanced at her phone. Her last text had gone to Killian, not Regina; his messages had been up from when she checked them earlier. She silently cursed herself. "No, I…I was just saying I've missed you. It's been awhile."

"Aye. It has."

Movement caught her eye; Regina was standing in the doorway of the study. Emma swallowed.

Killian continued. "We could fix that easily enough, unless you have another family emergency, of course."

Emma's words caught in her throat as she watched Regina watching her. "No…no emergency today. But, yesterday was…was bad…"

"I heard," Killian said. Regina leaned against the doorway, her arms crossed; Emma couldn't read the strange expression on her face. "I'm so sorry you had to deal with all of that. It's a tragic loss, for all of us."

Emma cleared her throat. "Yes."

"Look love, you sound upset. How about if I just come by and pick you up? We can do whatever you'd like; I can have you back before anyone misses you."

"Killian, wait…" At the mention of his name, Regina vanished from the doorway; Emma's heart ached. "Killian I'm sorry to be confusing and all over the place, but…I have to go."

"But…what…?"

"Everything's fine," she rushed, "It's just…tonight's not a good time."

She could feel his frustration through the phone. "Look Swan, I'm trying to be patient. I'm trying to be understanding. And I feel I have been. But you can't keep reaching out to me and pulling away like this. There's only so much a man can take."

She stood up and closed the book. "I know and I'm sorry but…"

"You know I'll never argue when you say it's for your family. But I can't help but wonder if you've started using them as an excuse."

"Killian…"

"I'm sorry I called. I'll stick to texting next time. Only if you text first, of course. I'm learning the rules." He hung up.

Emma exhaled and ran her hands through her hair; she would have to address that fight tomorrow. "Regina?" When she didn't get an answer, she ran into the hallway. "Regina!"

She found her in the kitchen, washing her wine glass. "Are you all right?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Hey…" Emma went to her and placed a hand on her hip.

Regina spun around; her glass shattered in the sink. "Don't let me keep you if you have someplace you'd rather be."

Emma yanked her hands up and backed off. "Whoa, what are you…"

But Regina was trying to leave; Emma reached out and grabbed her arm. "Regina wait a minute."

Regina slapped her hand away; the lights in the kitchen flickered, and dishes clattered in the cabinets.

Emma's eyes went wide. "What the hell is that? Are you…are you going to use _magic_ on me? I don't even know what I've done, and you're going to bring a chandelier down on my head?"

Regina's eyes filled with tears. "No…no, I'm sorry. That was an accident. Today, I…today…" She couldn't finish; she clenched her fists and closed her eyes.

Emma felt her anger dissipate as her concern returned. "Regina, what is it?"

"Are you going to him tonight?" Regina whispered.

"What?" Emma saw the hurt in Regina's eyes and suddenly understood her outburst. She shook her head. "Regina…no."

Regina looked genuinely startled. "What? But…I heard…"

Emma's words came out before she had a chance to think: "I want to be with you."

Before either of them could say anything more, Emma closed the distance between them, took Regina's face in her hands, and kissed her. Regina wrapped her arms around her and pulled Emma against her. Their breathing quickened. Regina pressed her hips into Emma's and moaned softly; Emma felt a shiver of pleasure as her desire hit the breaking point.

She had to have her.

Regina gasped as Emma's kisses turned more passionate and traveled to her neck; she wrapped her hands into blonde hair and pulled, which only increased Emma's arousal. The sheriff's hands made quick work of the buttons on Regina's blouse; she pushed the fabric aside and kissed a trail down, down, down, kneeling before Regina when she got to her belt. She hesitated, and gazed up into Regina's eyes.

They'd gone dark with desire. "Don't stop."

A wicked grin spread across Emma's face and the belt was open, the button undone, her lips were enjoying the toned stomach of the woman before her…

When the front door slammed open.

Emma and Regina flew from each other; Regina once again vanished in a cloud of purple smoke, though considering the state of her clothes Emma couldn't blame her. She quickly adjusted her own shirt as their son entered the kitchen, followed by David.

"Did you find Mom? We saw her car," Henry said.

Emma tried to calm her breathing and still the hammering of her heart. "Yes! Yes, she's here. She's…fine."

"What happened to you?" David asked, concerned.

"Me? Nothing."

Henry sighed. "Were you guys fighting?"

Emma's mind searched desperately for the words that would end their conversation the fastest. "Uh…a little, actually. Technically." She ran a hand through her hair. "You know your mom, she doesn't really like to be surprised when she's…brooding."

"What was she upset about?"

"Uh, a few different things, but she'll be fine. We…talked…but she just wasn't ready to talk to anyone else."

"You mean me."

Emma groaned inwardly. "No, Henry, she…you know she doesn't like you to see her upset."

"But I can handle it."

David put a hand on his shoulder. "She knows, Henry."

Henry nodded. "Yeah. Well. At least she's okay." He vanished up the stairs, and Emma sighed with relief.

David raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to tell me about the glass in the sink?"

"I do not."

"Okay." He held her tight, and kissed the top of her head. "You know your mother and I love you, and we're here for you no matter what."

"I know, Dad. Thanks."

Eventually she was able to convince her father that everything was fine; within the hour Henry was in bed and asleep, and once again Emma found herself wondering where Regina was. She stared out her bedroom window into the yard, hoping the other woman had returned and just not come in, but she didn't see her. Resigned, she brought a police file to her bed, curled up, and tried to focus on the words in the various reports instead of replaying the arousing events from earlier in her mind.

It wasn't really working.

She had just tossed the file away from her when a cloud of purple smoke appeared in the room; she gasped. "Regina!"

The other woman didn't say anything, she just stood where she was, by the door.

"Regina, I—"

Regina held up a hand, silencing her. She slowly unbuttoned her shirt, and shrugged it to the floor.

Emma swallowed.

Regina unfastened her belt, slowly, all the while keeping her eyes locked on Emma's. They were full of uncertainty, hope, need; Emma's heart beat a little faster. Regina slipped off her trousers; they joined her shirt on the floor. She switched the light off, and made her way over to the bed in the moonlight. She straddled Emma, who placed her hands on Regina's hips. The brunette bent her head down to kiss her softly; Emma closed her eyes and welcomed her, gladly.

Her fingers traced up Regina's sides and drifted around to unclasp her bra; when it joined her other clothes on the floor, Regina leaned back and held out her hands. The walls started to shimmer as a wave of energy rippled along, ending at the door which glowed bright blue before returning to its normal shade.

Emma propped herself up on her elbows. "What was that?"

Regina leaned in and laced her fingers with Emma's, drawing the sheriff's hands up to her breasts; Emma gave a small gasp of pleasure.

"Soundproofing," Regina murmured in her ear.

Emma's blood ran hot—she grabbed Regina around her waist and flipped her so that she was the one on top, with the mostly nude queen spread beneath her. Emma devoured Regina's mouth, her neck, her chest, very aware of the other woman's hands wound tightly in her hair, never letting Emma go too long without pulling her back to kiss her.

Suddenly, Emma's heart caught up with her libido; she needed to breathe. She pulled away, trying to catch her breath. Regina sat up and gently cupped her face in her hands, brushing away tears Emma didn't even realize she had shed.

"What is it?" Regina whispered.

Emma shook her head, frustrated and embarrassed. "Nothing." She gave a soft, humorless laugh. "It's everything."

Regina nodded and held her hands. "We can stop."

Emma loved her for saying that. She loved her for holding her on the couch when she was upset, for making her breakfast, for building a home with her.

In answer, Emma held Regina's gaze as she slowly removed her shirt. Regina watched, with eyes both appreciative and questioning, as Emma quickly slipped off the rest of her clothes and sat before her. "I don't want to stop," she whispered. "Regina, I'm in love with you."

Regina's breathing hitched and Emma wondered if her words had been a mistake, but then Regina's lips were on hers and she was the one being devoured. She gasped as Regina pushed her back on the bed, moaned as Regina laid her body flush against hers, and cried out when Regina slipped inside her and took her as though their lives depended on it.

And when the tables had turned and it was Regina rocking against Emma's thrusts, crying out her name, the savior felt complete for the first time in recent memory.

And when they finally collapsed, both completely spent, they held each other and didn't let go, even when sleep overtook them.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: "Chapter Hang On...Just Hang On" :) There are fourteen chapters total, and each of the remaining ones is FULL. Thank you always for reading, following, favoriting, and commenting. If you're enjoying, please please share and tell others to look my way! And I love and am grateful for all of your comments. xoxo-DHD

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Regina placed a short stack of chocolate chip pancakes on Henry's plate; his eyes widened. "Whoa!"

"I'm glad you approve," she said as she kissed the top of his head and turned to grab the orange juice.

"Mmm hmm!" he said, his mouth already stuffed full. Regina readied another stack for Emma, and even allowed herself two. As she bustled about, preparing coffee and occasionally wiping down part of the counter, she realized her son was watching her. She stopped and placed a hand on her hip. "What? What is it?"

"Nothing," Henry said quickly. He took another monstrous bite.

Regina raised an eyebrow. "What's nothing, exactly?"

Henry swallowed and nervously chewed his lip. "Well…I was just wondering…when you asked Emma to live with us, did you mean for her to stay?"

Regina blinked her surprise, and placed a hand on the counter to steady herself. "Well, I…I…I don't know, Henry. I guess I didn't really think about it."

He nodded. "So you just didn't want her to be alone."

As Regina's mind tried to rapidly adjust to the line of conversation, her heart went back to that time (it seemed so long ago) when she saw the lone pillow on Emma's couch, the bedroom nobody slept in, a sad apartment that would never be a home. She looked around her now at her happy son, the full breakfast spread…and remembered with a blush the warmth and passion of the night before. She turned her attention back to the coffee so Henry wouldn't see the color in her cheeks. "I didn't want that for her, no." She cleared her throat. "Did you need more orange juice or syrup?"

"Mom?"

She stilled. "Yes?"

"Do you love Emma?"

Her stomach was suddenly in a knot; she thought about telling him it was complicated, since it certainly was. But she heard a quiet sound in the hallway and realized her sheriff was doing a poor job of eavesdropping; it brought a small smile to her face. Henry and Emma deserved the truth from her, even if it was difficult for her to give voice to her feelings. Emma had literally laid herself bare for Regina last night; she deserved for Regina to be half that brave now.

She took a deep breath and looked at her son. "Yes, Henry. I've found that I do." She sat down next to him. "How do you feel about that?"

He put down his fork and considered her question. "Better. Because I know Emma loves you."

Regina blanched. "You've…discussed this with her?"

"Oh no, I don't need to. I can just tell with her." He smiled and loaded up his fork. "These are delicious."

He'd left her speechless—she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him again before continuing with coffee prep. After another minute, Emma decided to stop hiding in the hallway. Regina's heart swelled when she saw her, knowing she had heard everything. "Good morning," she said shyly.

"Well I'd say so," Emma said, running a hand through Henry's hair. "What's all this?"

Regina handed her a cup of coffee. "Family breakfast."

Henry refilled his own juice with a grin.

….

Emma had called a meeting at her parents' loft that day, to discuss with their most trusted residents what they had learned at Gold's shop.

"A matchbox?" Leroy grumbled. "Huh. Match magic. That's pretty specific."

Blue frowned. "So the match produces a certain type of flame?"

"Well, that's what we're trying to figure out," David said. "Gold isn't sure what they do."

That resulted in a collective murmur of concern from the crowd. Ruby crossed her arms. "If Rumplestiltskin doesn't know, how are we supposed to find out?"

Regina took the floor. "We're hoping that somebody has a specific, strange memory of a match—not the candle, or the resulting fire. Gold seemed to think the fire was inconsequential, meant to throw us off."

Someone gripped Emma's arm; she turned to see Granny as white as a ghost. "What is it?"

"Oh god," Granny said quietly. "I do."

Ruby knelt at her grandmother's side. "Granny…why didn't you say something before?"

The old wolf gripped Ruby's hands. "Because I'd almost forgotten. It was so long ago, I was only a little girl. And it had nothing to do with children or fires or anything else we thought we were looking for." She looked up at Emma. "But a match…"

Regina huffed with impatience. "Well what is it? What do you remember?"

"When I was very, very young, my grandfather got his leg caught in a trap that was laced with poison. There was nothing to be done for him in those days; he couldn't be healed, but he also wouldn't die. He was too strong." Granny closed her eyes, as if searching for the rest of the story. "A week after the injury, he was still alive, though he couldn't eat or sleep, and he was in constant pain. His howls…he was in agony. So my mother sent for a woman. She wore a long, green cloak…and she carried a small black box."

Emma's eyes met Regina's. She swallowed. "Then what?"

"My mother gathered the whole family to come say goodbye. One by one we filed through, kissed my grandfather, and told him we loved him. He was smiling for the first time in weeks. My mother and her sisters ushered us all out after that…but there was a hole in their wall and I watched. The woman in the green cloak asked if my grandfather was ready and he said he was, and closed his eyes. The woman lit a match. My mother blew it out. And…they all started howling—my grandfather was dead."

Regina's eyes went wide. "Who was this woman?"

Granny shook her head. "I don't know. They never spoke of it again. I thought it was just some ceremony or something, I never thought I had seen magic."

"So the match took his life," Mary Margaret breathed.

"But he was an old man," Leroy said. "Injured, trying to die. He wasn't a kid trying to walk to school."

"Wait, why haven't we heard about someone with this power?" Emma asked. "This is huge!"

Blue put a calming hand on her shoulder. "Precisely because it is so huge. Someone with the ability to usher souls to the next realm?"

"Not just usher them," David said, "but remove them from living people."

"This is a powerful magical gift, and not one that spirits would give lightly. It would have to go to someone who would keep it secret, so it couldn't be used for evil; someone who wouldn't abuse the gift themselves."

"It clearly has been abused," Regina growled. "It's not a gift, it's a curse."

"I'm with Regina," Emma said. "Three children in Storybrooke have been killed by this person. She ripped their souls right out of them for no reason. The spirits made a bad call."

Leroy was glowering in the corner. "Didn't you say there was an echo of light magic where Ava and Nicholas were attacked?"

They were all quiet for a moment, trying to make sense of it.

"It's possible," Blue said quietly, "that this person thinks they're saving the children."

Mary Margaret's eyebrows shot up. "From what?" she cried. "They weren't in any danger. They weren't unhappy in any way!"

Blue shook her head. "Perhaps they see something we don't. Perhaps the children were going to suffer."

"Or," Regina said, "something happened to this person, to change how they see the world."

David ran a hand through his hair. "God, that's frightening."

"Maybe they lost a child," Ruby offered.

"It's the Little Match Girl!" came a voice from the stairs. They all looked up; Henry's face peeked down at them from his room.

"Did you find something in your book?" Mary Margaret asked hopefully.

"No," he said as he thundered down the stairs. "It's a story from this world. Do you know it, Mom?"

Emma frowned. "Not really. I didn't get a lot of storytelling growing up."

All of the adults had their eyes fixed on Henry as he said, "The Little Match Girl is a really short, sad fairy tale. A poor little girl is out one winter's night trying to sell matches; she can't go home without earning money, but she's slowly starting to freeze to death."

"Dear god," Regina said, "who read this to you?"

Emma swatted her arm so Henry could continue.

"She lights the matches one by one to try to stay warm, and when she does she sees beautiful holiday foods and gifts in the light. As she starts to die, she sees her grandmother in heaven. She lights all of her matches, and in the burst of light and warmth, her grandmother takes her spirit away and ends her suffering. The people that find her frozen body see she died with a smile on her face."

"That's so sad," Mary Margaret whispered. David put a hand on her shoulder.

"Someone in the Enchanted Forest was the Little Match Girl," Henry continued. "Maybe it was even different people over time, but it makes sense. The Match Girl has the power to ease suffering and bring people to a peaceful death…in your world," he said to his grandparents. "In this world she's just…tragic."

"Maybe whoever it is did lose a child," Granny said. "They're on a twisted crusade to save the rest."

"By killing them?" Regina snarled. She grabbed her coat and stormed out of the loft.

"I'll get her," Emma said, "You guys try to figure out who this person could be in Storybrooke." She pulled on her jacket and ran down the stairs after Regina. A quick search of the street revealed nothing. Emma sighed and stood in the middle of the road; she was gone, but in her state there was probably only one place she'd go.

A short while later, Emma parked Regina's Mercedes at the forest's edge and trudged through the woods to Regina's vault. She pushed the door open, saw that the stairway was exposed, and ventured down.

Regina was sitting on a trunk, her face in her hands.

Emma crouched down next to her and gently touched her arm.

"Stay away from me," Regina whispered.

"What? No, that's not going to happen."

Regina lifted her head; her eyes were black. "Please Emma. I don't want to hurt you." Her hands started to shake and spark with bursts of magic.

A chill went down Emma's spine; she held up her hands and backed away. "Hey. It's okay."

A bottle burst on the shelf behind Regina. A box fell open, spilling its contents. Regina remained frozen on the trunk, clenching her fists.

"Regina…"

A stack of books tumbled to the floor and three more bottles shattered; Emma twisted behind the wall as glass shards flew past her face. She ran halfway up the stairs, sat down, and pulled her hood over her face as the very ground started to quake. She heard Regina cry out and more things breaking, and then the lights flickered as a wave of energy built up and rocked the vault, blasting Emma up three more steps; she coughed as the breath was knocked from her lungs, then pulled her hood back.

It was darker; most of the candles had burned out. She winced as she stood up—her arm was going to have a nasty bruise. She braced herself on the stone wall and inched down the stairs.

Regina was standing with her arms crossed, her dark hair obscuring her face. Her breaths sounded ragged; Emma held out a hand as she approached. Glass and stone crunched beneath her boots. "Regina?"

The other woman lifted her head, sadness and shame in her eyes. "I didn't mean to…"

Emma pulled her into a tight embrace, kissing her cheeks and whispering soothing words; when Regina stopped shaking she sat with her on the trunk and asked, "What happened?"

"How do we not know who this disturbed person is in Storybrooke?"

Emma kept a hand on her back. "I don't know. It must be someone on the outskirts. You can't know everyone who was caught up by the curse."

"After thirty years I should." She took a shuddering breath and turned to Emma. "If this maniac decides to go after Henry I don't know how to save him."

"Hey—we always save our son, and we hardly ever have the luxury of a plan. But we save him." She put a hand on Regina's cheek. "And he's not in danger. He's safe right now. We can't think about the what-ifs."

"The double funeral is tomorrow."

Emma closed her eyes. The dwarves were guarding Michael Tillman in his home, to make sure he didn't do anything drastic in his grief. The funeral was going to be bad. "I know."

"I don't want Henry to go."

Emma nodded. "I get why. But we should talk to him about it. We shouldn't stop him from going if he wants to."

They sat in silence for a long while.

Regina leaned over, inspected the remains of a potion bottle, and tossed it aside. A thought occurred to Emma; she straightened up.

"What is it?"

"In Granny's story…her grandfather passed on quickly once the Match Woman came; she lit the match and they blew it out." Emma stood up and started pacing. "But all of our kids stayed between worlds for days. If the match burned out, they would have died within minutes of collapsing."

Regina's brow furrowed. "So their matches didn't burn out?" A look of horror swept over her face. "Oh, Emma…that's the connection to the candles."

Emma felt ill and sat back down. "She transfers the flame from the match to the candle. And then she uses it to start a larger fire."

Regina squeezed her hand. "And worse…when we put out the fire…"

Emma's eyes went wide. "We extinguish the flame in the candle. We…we're the ones that kill them."

"Oh my god," Regina said as she stood. "We have to tell David and the others. And the fire department. If another fire starts…they can't put it out. They just can't."

"They won't." Emma held out her hand; Regina took it. "Come on. We won't lose another child, now that we know what's happening. Now we just have to find this damn Match Woman."

…

 _When the storm finally cleared, Alta wasted no time packing her cart to head back to her village. The trip had been much more eventful than she'd ever intended. She remained devastated over the loss of Mother Sarkin, though her family was nothing but grateful for Alta's ability to usher her to the next realm with no pain. Alta's feelings were more complicated than that. Ebel was right; she did view her power as a burden, though she seemed to be the only one. Of course, if word got out that her family wasn't just in the candle-making business, things could get ugly. It would be easy to make her use her powers for the wrong reasons—all anyone would need, besides Alta, is the box of matches._

 _The matches were created from an enchanted tree, cultivated by one of her ancestors quite a long time ago. There were fewer and fewer matches made as the years went on; to have an excess would be irresponsible. Besides the matches, the right family member was required to use their magic. Everyone in the family was able to create the spells necessary to make the candles, though it took years of apprenticeship to master them. Many family members had not made use of their magical gifts, choosing instead those labors that came easier._

 _But there was always one harvester._

 _Alta secured the last box into the cart and climbed up to take the reins. Her friends were kind enough to send her with food and drink. She had been gone for days, worried every moment for her sick Katie and elderly mother, though her mind told her they had probably eaten cookies, happily, the entire time she was gone._

 _The return trip was twice as long because of the heavy snowfall; she was afraid she wouldn't make it before nightfall, and pushed her horse more than she normally would. She found the tree that marked the final turn to the village, and breathed a sigh of relief._

 _That relief was short-lived._

 _Charred trees lined the road home. Alta's heart beat faster and her hands started to shake. The trees grew blacker and blacker, and the animal sounds of the forest were absent. Dread washed over her as she urged the horse on, faster and faster._

 _The arch that marked the entrance to their village was still standing, but beyond it…_

 _…beyond it were broken, blackened homes, some burned down to their foundations._

 _Alta ran as though she were underwater, her heart and mind at odds with each other and her body sluggish to respond. Where were the merchants, the barns, the people? Where was her Katie? Her clothes grew darker and darker as soot clung to her; she pushed past a pile of ruins that she wouldn't recognize as the bodies of her neighbors until days later. She got to the remains of her home and forced the door open; it crumbled off its hinges._

 _Her daughter's bed, the mantle, the table, her mother's chair—she saw where all of these things should be, but all she saw in front of her were blackened lumps and piles of ash. In the far corner, mocking her, was a box of her candles; the box had burned away, leaving a dozen candles all burning brightly, the only flickering signs of life in her dead village._

 _She screamed._

 _…_

"Everyone's on alert," David assured them that night at the diner. "Ruby and Granny have some of the census records for Storybrooke and Mary Margaret and I have the rest."

Mary Margaret shifted little Neal to her other hip. "Everyone's records should be pretty consistent, if not identical, for many years at a time. We'll check for anyone we don't really know, and if there's someone whose records are irregular."

"We should take some too," Regina said. "I'm the one whose memories have been intact the longest."

David looked at her. "We thought it might be best if you worked on the magical side of things; if there's another attack, and we can't put out the fire that comes with it…"

Regina sighed. "You'll need some way to contain it. Of course." She stood; Emma and Henry stood with her, the family solidarity bringing the briefest of smiles to the mayor's face before she slipped on what she hoped was a neutral mask. "Shall we head home, then?"

She watched Henry and Emma hug the Charmings goodnight, saw the sweet kisses they gave to Neal. She held the door for both of them as they headed for her car, allowing her hand to rest naturally in the small of Emma's back as she passed.

What she missed was the dawning comprehension on Mary Margaret's face.

…

They sat up together in the soft light of the study, Regina scribbling notes to half-forgotten spells and Emma checking the books for new ones. Henry, for his part, had fallen asleep on his pillowesque tome. Regina glanced at the clock on the wall. "We should probably follow our son's lead," she sighed, "or we won't be any use tomorrow."

"Do we have enough for now?"

"For now." Regina ran a hand through her hair and stretched. "Really all we need is this person's name; I'm sure it will be much more satisfying to strangle her with my bare hands than to use magic anyway."

Emma shook her head. "Regina…"

"Save it, I know you agree with me."

Emma gave her a grin and gently shook Henry awake. "Hey kid. Let's head upstairs. Bedtime."

Henry barely opened his eyes as he nodded and shuffled out of the study; Emma went to follow him but hesitated in the doorway.

"I'll get him settled while you finish up," she offered. "Then…will I see you upstairs?"

Her words pulled Regina out of her notes, and also made her forget that she knew how to speak. "Oh! I hadn't thought…that is, I'd hoped that…" She blushed furiously and let out a short breath. "Yes. You will."

Emma's shy smile in response alleviated most of Regina's embarrassment at her own awkwardness. This may be new territory for them, but it was what they both wanted.

It only took a few minutes to stack their books, carefully marking where they'd left off in their research, and place her own notes on top. She switched off all of the downstairs lights and headed up. First, as was her habit, she peeked in on her son, who was all snuggled up in his blankets as though he were much younger than he was. Then she knocked softly on Emma's door, swallowed, and stepped inside. Emma wasn't there; Regina's brow furrowed.

"Your bed looked more comfortable."

Regina turned at Emma's voice to see the blonde waiting in the doorway to the master bedroom, wearing her standard tank top and flannel pants. A warmth filled Regina; without even trying, Emma managed to look beautiful.

"It is," Regina said, "but I can't say I didn't enjoy every moment I spent in yours." She cupped Emma's face and kissed her; Emma's arms wound around her waist.

She took a little longer than usual with her washing up routine. She couldn't help it; she was nervous about going back out to Emma, in her bed, and…well, she wasn't sure what. Last night, she _needed_ to make love to her. Tonight she craved a different intimacy and hoped Emma would be okay with that. Eventually she took a deep breath and stepped back into her bedroom. She avoided Emma's gaze as she joined her under the covers; Emma placed a tender hand on her cheek and forced her to meet her eyes. "What is it, Regina?"

"Could we…would you…" Emma waited patiently until Regina mustered up enough courage to say the words. "Would you just hold me tonight? Please?"

And Emma did; strong arms kept Regina close, her head on Emma's chest with the savior's chin resting on top. Occasionally Emma's hands would stroke her back or her hair, but mostly they were still. And Regina drifted off, her mind quiet, her heart safe.

…..

The three of them drove together to the funeral the next afternoon; they had voiced their concerns to Henry but he insisted on going because it was the right thing to do. They couldn't argue with him.

Emma glanced at Regina, all business as she drove, her stony mask already in place. She sighed and hoped the others had gotten somewhere with the census records; they had found the answers to many of their questions, but so many still went unanswered, with Who and Why being at the top of the list.

They stood with the rest of the town as Blue delivered the service next to two freshly dug graves. Regina kept her arms wrapped protectively around Henry. Emma took note of the dwarves a little ways off from the rest of the group; they had the grieving Michael Tillman with them. People said he hadn't spoken since the night he lost Ava and Nicholas. Emma's heart went out to him; she believed it and couldn't blame him.

She kept scanning the faces in the crowd, wondering for the millionth time who among them could possibly be doing this. She had gotten to know so many of them in the last few years, and most other residents of Storybrooke had known each other for generations. They had all relied upon each other, trusted each other, so many times. Her eyes came to rest on Robin…and found him staring right back at her. She started and looked away. But her eyes wandered back and met his again, and with a sinking feeling in her stomach she knew that he knew about her relationship with Regina. She saw the tension in his jaw as he patted Roland's shoulder and finally looked away from her and back at Blue.

Emma let out the breath she'd been holding and pushed her hands into her jacket pockets, resisting the urge to take Regina's arm possessively, though she did step closer to her and their son.

The first part of the service concluded; as the fairies started to sing, the townspeople stepped forward and took turns covering the graves, one small shovelful of dirt at a time. A cry went up from the edge of the cemetery; Michael was sobbing against Leroy, who held him tightly. As Emma stepped up and took the shovel passed to her by David, a second cry went up. At first Emma thought it was Michael again…but then the crowd started shouting. She whirled around, trying to locate the cause of the commotion as voices overlapped.

"What happened?"

"Is he all right?"

"Get him some water!"

They seemed to be gathered around one spot; Emma shoved her way through to find Roland in Robin's arms, completely unconscious. Robin was shaking him by the shoulders. _"Roland!"_ he screamed.

The blood left Emma's face. _Not here. Not now._

 _Not another one._

"David!" she yelled, "Take the dwarves and Granny and Red and seal off the streets! Everyone here goes straight to City Hall and gets counted in by the fairies. I want a house-by-house search. Anyone you find at home who skipped the service jumps to the top of the suspect list. Get Gold to help with magic—I'm sure he's got something that will keep everyone in place." She grabbed her father's wrist before he left. "And whatever you do, don't put out any fires or blow out any candles."

Archie was trying to take Roland from his father, which proved to be a mistake; the normally noble Robin punched him square in the jaw. "Don't touch him! _Roland!"_

And then Regina was there, one hand on Robin's face and the other on his arm. There were tears in her eyes. "Robin, look at me, please…"

His eyes were wild, darting between hers. He clutched Roland to his chest. He didn't move to strike her, which Emma took as a good sign.

"Robin…do you trust me?"

He looked so pained, his jaw clenching and unclenching, tears streaming down his face. "Robin," Regina said, her voice shaking, "we have to get Roland to the hospital."

"Why? What does it matter?" he hissed at her. "There's nothing they can do."

She kept her hand on his face. "Because there's going to be a manhunt. The hospital will be safer than your camp." She hesitated, then ran a gentle hand through Roland's hair, evoking a sob from Robin. She kissed her former lover on his forehead; Emma turned away. "Please Robin. I can't find who did this if I'm worried about you."

He staggered to his feet; Emma instinctively reached out to steady him, but pulled her hand back when he glared at her. "I'll go," he said roughly. "Wouldn't want you worrying about me."

Regina's face crumpled; Emma could have punched Robin for that, which she knew would be a petty reaction to a deadly situation. He went off, Roland in his arms, with his Merry Men forming a wall around him.

Emma took Regina's arm. "Hey…"

Regina sniffed and pulled away. "We have to move fast. Henry!" He was at her side in an instant, worry all over his face. "Stay with Mary Margaret at City Hall. Help her and the fairies for us."

"I want to stay with you," he said, his voice small.

Emma held him tight. "No way."

"But I found some spells that…"

"I'll find them," Regina assured him. "I have to stop by the mansion to get some potions. I'll find your notes. No arguing."

…

Armed with potions and spells, Emma and Regina drove through the streets of Storybrooke at a faster pace than the others' door-to-door checks. They were looking for someone panicking, racing through the woods, a crashed car, _something_ less than methodical, even though methodical was all the culprit had been from the beginning. Emma had the short list of red flags Mary Margaret had compiled from their census search—most were older people who seemed to live out in the woods and moved their camps from time to time, going uncounted for years. But there were some names nobody knew.

Emma frowned. "How do you even get these names on a list if no one knows where they live?"

Regina clenched the steering wheel. "Somebody knows them."

"Maybe they all just know each other, and one of them spilled the beans, went into town for a coffee one day and started saying names." She looked at Regina, whose eyes were locked on the road. "We're going to save him."

"Don't say that. It might not be true." Regina took a turn so fast Emma braced herself against the door. "Just promise me you won't get in my way when we find this woman. Because if anything happens to Roland…" her voice broke and she stopped talking.

Emma pressed her lips together and went back to staring out the window; her eyes widened at something over the treetops.

"Regina…"

"What?"

She pointed. "It's smoke. A lot of it."

It was coming from town; Regina slammed on the brakes and spun the car around. Emma pulled out her phone to call her father but he was already calling her. She picked up.

"David, there's smoke coming over the trees, it looks like there's already…"

"Emma, it's the mansion!"

"What?" She sat up and looked to Regina.

"Regina's mansion is on fire."

The car swerved as Regina looked to her for answers. "Emma, what is he saying?"

"It's…it's the house. Our house."

Emma was thrown forward, her seatbelt digging into her chest and knocking the wind out of her as Regina slammed on the brakes again, bringing the car to a screeching halt; she gasped for air as the familiar purple smoke appeared and Regina vanished.

…

"Let it burn!" Regina screamed at them as she appeared on her walkway. The fire department was there, as well as David and Ruby; everyone else was still sequestered.

"Regina…" David's eyes looked stricken; he grabbed her arms but she pushed him away.

"There's a candle in there," Regina barked. "We have to get it out, or Roland will die. Let the house burn; send in a rescue group for the candle."

"Regina!" David shouted. She blinked at him; he looked terrified. "Regina, we have to put it out."

"Are you even listening to me? He'll die!"

"Henry's in there."

She grabbed his shirt front; her eyes turned deadly. "…What?"

"He got away from Mary Margaret, he wanted to help you…"

Regina didn't hear anything else. She turned back to look at her house; from what she could see it looked like her office downstairs and the bedrooms upstairs were ablaze. Why hadn't Henry run out? Was he trying to be the hero? Was he stuck?

Ice crept through her veins towards her heart and she refused to give voice to her biggest fear; instead she blasted back David and the firemen and stalked through the front door.

…..

Minutes later Emma leapt out of the Mercedes in front of the mansion. "Dad!"

David was lying on the grass, holding a hand to his head; Emma stared up at the mansion with dread as Ruby raced over to her. "Emma…"

"Ruby, where is she?"

"She's inside," her friend said tightly. "And Emma…Henry is too."

…

Regina threw her arm in front of her face as a blast of heat rushed up the stairs. "Henry!" she cried. She didn't expect an answer and feared the worst, but she kept calling for him anyway.

She had to.

She hissed and pulled her hands away from the burning banister. She uttered one of the spells she'd found and her hands instantly cooled, creating an effective (if small) barrier against the heat. She kept one hand in front of her to keep her face from burning, and pulled her scarf over her nose and mouth to keep from choking.

All around her, wood crackled and burned.

At the top of the stairs, Regina dropped to the ground to avoid the smoke, rolling and thick as it was, and she saw a familiar pair of sneakers.

"Henry…"

He was lying at the entrance to his bedroom; he wasn't moving. When she reached him, she saw he was at least breathing, though barely. It was enough for her. She kissed him, hot tears on her cheeks, and waved a hand over him.

…..

Purple smoke swirled on the front lawn and Emma raced forward. "Regina!"

But to her horror, it was not Regina—it was the unconscious form of their son. She rushed forward, searching for signs of life, and relief flooded through her when she saw she shallow rise and fall of his chest as she breathed.

David was at her side, saying something about an ambulance and smoke inhalation. Emma forced herself to be present, to nod an answer at him, as she tried to wipe the soot from Henry's face. She lifted her eyes to the house, where flames were now leaping from the upstairs windows.

Regina was still inside.


	11. Chapter 11

AN: As always, a huge thank you to you all. NaNo has kept me from responding to you individually, but I will! I hope you all had a good holiday:)

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 **Most terribly cold it was; it snowed, and was nearly quite dark, and evening- the last evening of the year. In this cold and darkness there went along the street a poor little girl, bareheaded, and with naked feet. When she left home she had slippers on, it is true; but what was the good of that? They were very large slippers, which her mother had hitherto worn; so large were they; and the poor little thing lost them as she scuffled away across the street, because of two carriages that rolled by dreadfully fast.**

 **One slipper was nowhere to be found; the other had been laid hold of by an urchin, and off he ran with it; he thought it would do capitally for a cradle when he some day or other should have children himself. So the little maiden walked on with her tiny naked feet, that were quite red and blue from cold. She carried a quantity of matches in an old apron, and she held a bundle of them in her hand. Nobody had bought anything of her the whole livelong day; no one had given her a single farthing.**

 **She crept along trembling with cold and hunger-a very picture of sorrow, the poor little thing!**

 **The flakes of snow covered her long fair hair, which fell in beautiful curls around her neck; but of that, of course, she never once now thought. From all the windows the candles were gleaming, and it smelt so deliciously of roast goose, for you know it was New Year's Eve; yes, of that she thought.**

 **In a corner formed by two houses, of which one advanced more than the other, she seated herself down and cowered together. Her little feet she had drawn close up to her, but she grew colder and colder, and to go home she did not venture, for she had not sold any matches and could not bring a farthing of money: from her father she would certainly get blows, and at home it was cold too, for above her she had only the roof, through which the wind whistled, even though the largest cracks were stopped up with straw and rags.  
**  
 **Her little hands were almost numbed with cold. Oh! a match might afford her a world of comfort, if she only dared take a single one out of the bundle, draw it against the wall, and warm her fingers by it. She drew one out. "Rischt!" how it blazed, how it burnt! It was a warm, bright flame, like a candle, as she held her hands over it: it was a wonderful light. It seemed really to the little maiden as though she were sitting before a large iron stove, with burnished brass feet and a brass ornament at top. The fire burned with such blessed influence; it warmed so delightfully. The little girl had already stretched out her feet to warm them too; but-the small flame went out, the stove vanished: she had only the remains of the burnt-out match in her hand.**

 **She rubbed another against the wall: it burned brightly, and where the light fell on the wall, there the wall became transparent like a veil, so that she could see into the room. On the table was spread a snow-white tablecloth; upon it was a splendid porcelain service, and the roast goose was steaming famously with its stuffing of apple and dried plums. And what was still more capital to behold was, the goose hopped down from the dish, reeled about on the floor with knife and fork in its breast, till it came up to the poor little girl; when-the match went out and nothing but the thick, cold, damp wall was left behind. She lighted another match. Now there she was sitting under the most magnificent Christmas tree: it was still larger, and more decorated than the one which she had seen through the glass door in the rich merchant's house.**

 **Thousands of lights were burning on the green branches, and gaily-colored pictures, such as she had seen in the shop-windows, looked down upon her. The little maiden stretched out her hands towards them when-the match went out. The lights of the Christmas tree rose higher and higher, she saw them now as stars in heaven; one fell down and formed a long trail of fire.**

 **"Someone is just dead!" said the little girl; for her old grandmother, the only person who had loved her, and who was now no more, had told her, that when a star falls, a soul ascends to God.**

 **She drew another match against the wall: it was again light, and in the lustre there stood the old grandmother, so bright and radiant, so mild, and with such an expression of love.  
**  
 **"Grandmother!" cried the little one. "Oh, take me with you! You go away when the match burns out; you vanish like the warm stove, like the delicious roast goose, and like the magnificent Christmas tree!" And she rubbed the whole bundle of matches quickly against the wall, for she wanted to be quite sure of keeping her grandmother near her. And the matches gave such a brilliant light that it was brighter than at noon-day: never formerly had the grandmother been so beautiful and so tall. She took the little maiden, on her arm, and both flew in brightness and in joy so high, so very high, and then above was neither cold, nor hunger, nor anxiety-they were with God.**

 **But in the corner, at the cold hour of dawn, sat the poor girl, with rosy cheeks and with a smiling mouth, leaning against the wall-frozen to death on the last evening of the old year. Stiff and stark sat the child there with her matches, of which one bundle had been burnt. "She wanted to warm herself," people said. No one had the slightest suspicion of what beautiful things she had seen; no one even dreamed of the splendor in which, with her grandmother she had entered on the joys of a new year.**

- _The Little Match Girl, by Hans Christian Andersen_

Somewhere in the blaze was a candle that had started it all, and trapped in its flame was the soul of a child Regina was not going to lose.

She stayed crouched low in the smoke and used what magic she could muster to create a barrier between herself and the wall of heat, but even so, sweat and smoke got in her eyes, half blinding her. The candle had to be near a window, she thought, near the drapes or bedding…and then she remembered the study. The hundreds of books, the pages and pages of notes they'd written.

She grimaced. If she wanted to make sure the mansion burned, she'd start there.

She half crawled, half fell down the stairs. She braced herself and shielded her face as she kicked the heavy door open; a rush of flames leapt past her.

"Regina!"

She whirled to face the front door, where Emma was crouched, calling out to her. "Regina, get out of there!"

Regina clenched her teeth, closed her eyes…and reached out with both hands to blast Emma across the yard. She turned back to the study, advancing as much as she dared. Another jet of cold air from her palms created a ripple through the room, and as the flames parted momentarily she saw it—a pillar candle, plain and white, burning on the desk near the window.

Regina would remember later that the candle was curiously unaffected by the heat. It wasn't melting, and it was cool and hard to the touch.

She would remember that much later.

She summoned her remaining magic to charge across the room and snatch the candle from the desk. She cried out as her magic wavered, her energy almost depleted. Flames licked her arms, her legs, her face…

Regina dropped to the floor, forced to abandon the scarf that had shielded her breathing in order to keep one hand on Roland's candle and crawl with the other. She closed her eyes against the smoke and heat and tried to feel her way to the door.

She felt wood turn to carpet and knew she'd made it to the entryway; she gasped for breath as her strength gave out.

She heard shouting, felt someone grab her, she was being carried…she clenched her hand, but the candle was no longer in it. "Roland," she rasped. Her vision cleared—she was in an ambulance, and Emma was looking down at her with a tear-stained face. Regina grabbed her hand. "Henry. Roland," she choked.

"They're alive," Emma whispered. She placed a gentle hand to Regina's hair. "You saved them."

Regina slipped into unconsciousness.

…..

At the hospital, Emma sat in the waiting area with her face in her hands. Mary Margaret was with her; she kept a supportive hand on her daughter's back.

With everyone out of the house and the candle recovered, the fire department was able to put out the blaze. Most of the mansion was spared, but what did burn burned completely. Emma and Regina, the two people most equipped to catch the Match Woman, had been completely and effectively distracted, sidelined, derailed. The sheriff should have kept going, Emma told herself. She should have torn the woods apart, ripped doors off hinges to find this lunatic.

But her lover and her son were here; she could think of nothing else. She had failed the town.

"Stop blaming yourself," Mary Margaret said softly, reading her mind.

Emma didn't reply.

David and Ruby had gone back out to resume the search; hopefully they hadn't fallen too far behind and the trail, if there even was one, wouldn't be cold.

The spell Gold cast to help them was a huge one and would certainly cost them a favor down the line: it confined everyone in Storybrooke to their homes, with the exception of those few helping with the search…and anyone currently in the hospital.

Emma heard heavy footsteps in the hall and picked her head up to see Doctor Whale. She stood immediately. "Henry—is he…? I mean, the smoke, did it….?"

Whale held up a hand. "The smoke didn't do as much damage to his lungs as we'd thought. In fact, it looks like he inhaled very little."

Emma sighed and took her mother's hand. "That's good. That's good news, right?"

Whale's eyes went from hers to Mary Margaret's. "Well…if we could all just sit for a moment…"

"Why." Emma dropped Mary Margaret's hand. "Henry's going to be okay, right? Or is it Regina? Doctor Whale…"

"Emma," her mother said gently, "he's trying to tell us. Go on, Doctor Whale."

He took a deep breath. "I suspect Henry has very little smoke in his lungs because he was already unconscious when the fire started."  
Emma didn't understand. "…From what?"

He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry Emma, but Henry is in the same condition as Roland Hood. The same that the other children were in."

Her eyes went wide as her stomach turned to ice. "No."

Doctor Whale said nothing; Mary Margaret put a hand over her mouth to cover a sob.

"No," Emma said again, more firmly this time. She looked past Whale to the hallway—in one of those rooms at the end was her son.

She ran.

Henry was in the very last room on the right—Emma froze in the doorway, suddenly afraid to step inside in case…in case….

…in case she snuffed him out.

She clamped a hand over her own mouth to stop the cries within her from getting out; she started to shake. She felt her mother's arms around her and crumpled into her embrace. "Mom," she sobbed.

Mary Margaret held her.

….

She had feared that she wouldn't be able to complete her mission; she had always assumed they were closer to finding her than they actually had been. But this last time had cut pretty close.

And then the little prince himself came home; what an unexpected gift when she had only hoped to burn the queen's castle as her last hurrah, sending the Hood boy on his way.

But then magic had enveloped her, and she was transported home; she found she was unable to leave. She sighed and looked at the tall pillar candle, the little prince's soul flickering away in the lantern. She smiled, satisfied with her enemies' grave miscalculation:

Being trapped in her home meant she wasn't trapped at all.

…

Emma wiped her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Did Whale say anything about Regina? How is she?"

Mary Margaret nodded and brushed Emma's hair from her face as though she were just a little girl. "She's doing much better than if she didn't have magic," she told her. "Her body is already starting to heal itself. She's getting oxygen, and Whale says she won't need any skin grafts."

Emma blinked. "Skin grafts…?" she echoed.

Mary Margaret took her hand. "Emma, Regina's going to be okay, but she was badly burned. Don't worry—Doctor Whale said she's already healing…because of her magic," she repeated. "If she _wasn't_ magical, things could have gone differently. But they didn't. Regina's okay." She took Emma's face in her hands. "Emma, you do believe me?"

"Yes." She felt like the whole world was spinning. She knew they had _planned_ to go charging into any future fires…but with protection. With magic, with _gear._ Regina had essentially abandoned her in the car, miles from their home, to fix everything herself.

She could have died. A normal person probably would have.

When Emma had tried to get her out, to convince her to return with _any_ kind of protection, Regina had literally flung her away. She was angry, in awe of her, and afraid all at the same time; mad that with a flick of her wrist Regina would and could take away any say Emma had in the matter, awed by her bravery and determination, and afraid…of everything else. Of losing her. Of losing their son.

"Emma…" Mary Margaret whispered.

She realized her mind had wandered away, and that her mother had seen it go. "I'm fine."

"That's not true. Why don't you go see her?"

Emma shook her head. "I can't. It's too…Mom, I can't." She stood abruptly and leaned on the window to Henry's room.

"Doctor Whale said she's asking for you."

Emma closed her eyes and said nothing.

But Mary Margaret wouldn't be deterred. "Emma I know you're afraid, but…"

"I'm not afraid," Emma snapped. "I'm angry. She…she…" she whirled on her mother. "She's so infuriating! She uses her magic to take away anything I can do, I'm left with no choice, no control over what happens to my own family. She left me behind and I couldn't save Henry—she literally threw me out of the house when I tried to save _her._ She's so…so… selfish. She can't do that to me, we have to figure things out together, but with her magic she can just…I'm…I'm so mad at her. I can't see her." She turned back around and pressed her forehead to the cool glass.

After minutes of silence, Mary Margaret came to stand next to her and gaze in at Henry. "I feel safe in assuming that Regina felt similarly helpless after the fire in your apartment, when it was you lying in a hospital bed. As I recall, she didn't leave your side except to make arrangements to take you home. To _her_ home."

Emma clenched her teeth as her face grew warm.

"Emma…my relationship with Regina is complicated at best, but I know her. When she loves she doesn't always do it well, but she does it completely. She loves more than anyone I've ever met. And she loves you."

Emma turned to face her, her throat suddenly very dry, but Mary Margaret kept her eyes locked on Henry.

"That means she's going to protect you as fiercely as she does Henry. You're damn right she's not going to risk you burning to death in a fire if she can help it. You'll forgive me if I'm grateful to her." Mary Margaret wiped tears from her eyes and left without looking at her daughter.

Emma wrapped her arms around herself and walked slowly down the hall to Regina's room; she hesitated, then peeked through the window at the woman she loved, her arms wrapped in bandages and soot still on her face. Emma pressed a hand over her mouth. Her mother was right; she was afraid.

She quietly opened the door and took a seat next to the bed; Regina's eyes fluttered open. "…Emma?"

"Shh," Emma whispered as tears started to fall. "I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

"Henry…"

"He's across the hall. He's…" Emma tried to put on a brave face; Regina wouldn't heal if she made her more distraught. "He's sleeping, which is what you should be doing." She let her fingertips come to rest lightly on Regina's shoulder; any of her own magic that she could give to speed the recovery process, she would. "Sleep."

Regina did.

…

Emma felt her cell phone vibrate in her pocket. She frowned and pulled it out—three missed calls from Killian, all within the last minute. She stretched the kinks out of her back and neck; she had drifted off holding Regina. To her surprise the other woman did look considerably better, though she was still asleep.

The phone buzzed again. Emma gave up and stepped into the hall to answer.

"Thank god you've picked up. You've got to get down here, to the docks, right away."

She bristled at his tone. "Killian, I can't. I'm at the hospital…"

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine, but Henry…" she choked up. "They got Henry."

His tone softened immediately. "Your boy…I'm so sorry, Emma."

Emma cleared her throat. "So unless this is important…"

"It is. There's a spell on us to keep us all at home, yeah? I've found I can't leave my ship, I assumed it had to do with your search. Well, the Triton just set sail."

Her brow furrowed. "What? The fishing boat?"

"Aye, and I'm weighing anchor to follow. The way I see it, anyone trying to leave is a guilty person trying to flee."

Emma's mind was racing.

The fishing boat—its captain lived on the vessel, uncounted in a census of Storybrooke homes. She clenched her teeth, her anger growing: Henry had played on the Triton's deck, all of the children had, the day of the fish fry. It was soon after that that the first attack had come. The fishing ships had been in port during all of the attacks.

"Killian, I'm on my way. Wait for me and David. We're coming with you."

"I'll wait as long as I can keep them in sight. I won't lose her."

"We'll be there."

Emma called her father to pick her up and drive them to the docks. Her next call was to Ruby to explain the situation and have Gold release the spell keeping everyone at home—Killian couldn't help if he was trapped on the Jolly Roger when they caught the Triton.

The drive seemed to take forever, when in reality it took only minutes; David screeched the car to a halt and he and Emma leapt out, racing for the pirate ship. Killian was on deck, telescope in hand.

"She's not gone far," he shouted down to them, "but she's faster than she looks. We've got to go."

Emma thundered onto the deck with David right behind her; the three of them got to work releasing the ropes that held the Jolly Roger just as another car raced onto the scene. Mary Margaret jumped out and waved her arms at them.

Emma's stomach lurched; something had happened to Henry or Regina. "Wait," she called.

The passenger door opened and Regina stepped out; Emma raced down to the dock. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"You're not doing this without me," Regina said. Her voice was iron, unlike her stance.

Emma reached out to steady her. "We don't have time to argue about this."

"I agree. Let's go."

"Regina…"

Regina shoved Emma away from her; her eyes were blazing. "Henry isn't in the hospital because of smoke," she spat. "He is one candle flame away from _death,_ and I am fighting for him. Now help me onto this ship."

She did, and as David reached for Regina from above, Emma turned to her mother. Mary Margaret held her tight. "I'll be with Henry," she assured her.

"Swan!" Killian shouted. "We're losing time!"

Emma raced back on board the Jolly Roger. David was sitting with Regina on the stairs. He wrapped his jacket around her shoulders as Killian steered them out into the open waters of the Atlantic.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: Thank you all so much for reading, with extra hugs for my frequent reviewers-I'm always glad to hear your thoughts! You guys are the best, really.

Edited: There is only one more chapter after this one; originally there were fourteen in total, but I ultimately combined the last two to make one longer chapter. It was just too choppy otherwise and boo to that!

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 _Her mother's body was clear, in the middle of the floor, but her Katie's was nowhere to be found. Perhaps there was still hope, Alta thought, desperately. She grabbed one of the cursed candles and ran back to her cart, where she grabbed a lantern and stuffed the burning candle inside. As one part of her mind fought to tell her this was all a dream, a nightmare, some other village, not hers…another part noticed the snowfall hadn't covered the blackened buildings. It couldn't have happened more than a day before. She scanned the surrounding area for any sign of her daughter._

 _She decided to try the back road; it was one of Katie's favorites, as it led past the duck pond and the little stone bridge. Besides, she told herself—if someone had attacked their village, her daughter would never have run to the main road._

 _Alta pushed through the ash and slush to the back gate._

 _She searched well into the night. She pulled her cloak tighter against the wind and started to bargain with whatever gods were listening; let her never be warm again, let her never know peace again, let her never know what happened to her village…if only she could find her daughter._

 _Alta had wandered well past the pond and the bridge; she could see the towering system of caves up ahead blocking out the stars. Perhaps Katie had made it there, she told herself. What a clever girl. Perhaps she had a candle with her for some warmth, and was using it to relight fires, and was waiting for her mother, because she knew she would find her…_

 _And she did find her._

 _And she sat next to the small body in the snow for days, until the wax of her candle finally burned itself down to nothing, and she realized she was in the darkness._

 _And then she sat for one more day, summoning the strength to lift her child and carry her, lifeless, back to the only place she knew to go: their village._

 _And on the walk back, in the afternoon sunlight, Alta saw a sign posted to a tree, a warning to passers-by that all those who would help the bandit Snow White were traitors to the crown, and would suffer the same fate as the village before them._

 _And with that, Alta's strength left her. She fell to the cold, wet ground, cradling her child's body in her arms, unaware of the giant cloud of purple magic that was creeping over the land to carry them all away._

 _And for the next twenty-eight years, Alta was never warm or dry again._

 _…_

"I'm fine, David," Regina grumbled. "Your wife made sure I had a coat and scarf. You need yours."

"But Regina…"

She heaved a sigh. "Shouldn't you be lending the pirate a hand? Doesn't he always need one?"

Emma appeared behind him. "Dad, can you give us a moment?"

When David left, Emma sat next to Regina, who suddenly felt very tired. "You should have told me about Henry right away," she said.

"I was afraid it would have killed you."

Regina took a sharp breath and looked away.

"How are your arms?" Emma asked quietly.

"The salt in the air hurts. But the jacket covers them adequately, and I can move them, so I'm fine."

"Would you tell me if you weren't?"

Regina took in Emma's unshed tears and said, "Not today. You can't think of me, only Henry. We don't even…" she closed her eyes. "We don't even know where he really is, do we?"

"No."

Regina nodded.

"But I need you to promise me something. I need to know that you're going to let me fight too. I can't do what I need to if I'm worried that at any second you'll stop me or vanish in a cloud of smoke to take matters into your own hands. Please promise me we fight together."

Regina frowned; she wanted to make no such promise.

When she didn't get an answer, Emma growled, "Fine. Just know that if I have to second-guess myself out here, one of us could die." She stood abruptly.

"Wait," Regina said; she grabbed Emma's hand and winced as the fabric of her jacket scraped her arms. "Please."

Emma hesitated, then sat down next to her. "What."

Regina clutched her hand. "I love you," she whispered. "I…I've told Henry. I even told Robin. But I haven't told you. Emma, I love you. And I can't lose you."

"Do you think I can lose you? At the mansion, when you threw me out, I was so afraid…I felt so helpless…"

"Henry needs one of us…"

"He needs _both_ of us," Emma hissed. "Regina, we can't go into this fight believing we can't make it out, or we'll lose our son. This madwoman has power over life and death—the usual rules already don't apply." Emma pulled her in and held her, firm but aware and careful of her injuries. "I love you too. Promise me, Regina. We fight together, for our family."

Regina buried her face in golden hair and sighed. "I promise."

"Is there anything I can do to help you heal more?"

Regina shook her head. "No. Just let me sit here. It might be warmer below, but if I can't see what's happening I'll just worry."

"Ok." Emma leaned back and cupped her cheek; Regina felt a hopeful fluttering in her chest. "Let me bring you a blanket, at least."

…

The Triton was still a good distance ahead of them, but the Jolly Roger was definitely closing in. Emma stood at the front of the ship, as though it would make a difference. She wrapped her arms around herself against the bite in the air and made her way back to Killian at the wheel.

"Another half hour, I'd say. The Triton's not exactly built for speed, though she'll have a motor to assist her." He gestured above. "Still no match for these sails. Don't worry; we'll get your boy back."

He was looking at her with such promise; it made her queasy with guilt. She had been a coward, avoiding Killian for weeks, as though that could have done anything but make things worse. She'd been selfish.

"I can't thank you enough. If you hadn't seen the Triton slip away, we still wouldn't know who it was we were after." She frowned. "Have you ever met the captain?"

He nodded. "Alta," he said. "I met her one of the times they were in port. We'd give a wave, you know, captain to captain, just basic niceties." He glanced at her. "Are we like that now, Swan? Just basic niceties?"

Her heart sank. "Killian…"

"I just wish I knew what I did. I've thought about it a lot, and I can't sort it out. But I think you know, and for some reason you won't tell me."

Emma twisted the end of her jacket in her hands. "This is the worst possible time for this."

"Aye. I am sorry about that." He turned the wheel, correcting course as the Triton loomed ahead. "But I don't know when you'll let me ask you again, and I feel I deserve to know."

Trapped on a ship with her ex-lover, her current lover, and her father while pursuing the woman who meant to kill her son…Emma's stomach was a knot of anger and anxiety. She shoved her hands in her pockets and tried not to choke on her words. "It wasn't you, Killian. It…it was Regina."

He raised an eyebrow. "I know I'm not her favorite person. What, she doesn't want me around Henry? The evil queen won't approve of the pirate?"

"No, she…"

"I know you're raising your child together, but after a point, Emma, you're in charge of your own personal life. She can't get involved with that."

"Killian…"

"Regina can't interfere with your life. With us. Emma, I care about you, but if you're telling me that Regina is the reason you can't see me or talk to me then…"

"I slept with her," she blurted.

The silence that followed was deafening. Killian didn't move; he didn't give her any indications at all.

Emma swallowed. "It's my fault. I…I should have…I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "But now it's done?"

"What?"

He looked at her, his eyes hard. "You slept with…her. You made a mistake. But, now it's done?"

She deflated under his gaze but shook her head. "No," she said quietly.

Killian turned back to face the Triton. "David!" he shouted, startling her.

Her father jogged over. "What is it?"

"I have to go below, I need you to take the wheel."

David looked between them, puzzled. "Is everything…"

"Just hold our course." He brushed past Emma without sparing her a glance and vanished below decks.

…

Hook didn't know Regina was there until she had a knife at his throat. He clenched his teeth and bit out: "I thought weapons were below the Evil Queen."

"I'm not her anymore, and they're not below _me,"_ Regina hissed at him. "I have to save my powers to rescue Henry, but I have no qualms about dealing with you the old-fashioned way if your feelings for Emma put our son in danger."

"My feelings for Emma? You took her from me!"

She slammed him into the wall; he grunted. "The only thing that matters now is Henry. Do you understand?"

He leaned into her blade. "I won't lose another child off this ship, Your Majesty."

Regina pushed him away from her and tried to hide the fact that her hands were shaking.

The pirate pulled out a flask and took a swig. "And does Emma realize who she's gotten into bed with? Does she know you're still full of this darkness, that you'll threaten people she cares about?"

Regina's blood boiled. "Does she know I'll do anything to save our son? I promise you—she absolutely does." She threw the knife on the table where she'd found it in the first place, daring him to pick it up. She jabbed a finger at him. "Do _not_ make yourself a liability in this fight."

She turned and climbed back above deck, leaving the pirate glaring in her wake.

….

An icy rain started as they gained on the Triton. Emma approached Regina, who stood in the very front of the Jolly Roger. "Are you ready?" She placed a hand in the small of her lover's back.

"Absolutely." Regina cracked her knuckles, and Emma saw the telltale spark of magic leap between her hands.

They were close enough to see the weathering on the fishing vessel's deck. Emma didn't see any sign of a crew. "Is it possible Alta's alone?" She watched the nets swing back and forth as the Triton crashed over waves.

"I suppose so. Especially if this is a suicide mission for her."

Emma shuddered.

"Emma!" David shouted. "Get ready!"

She grabbed the lines as Killian came running up from below, reeking of rum. She stared at him, incredulous. "Seriously?"

"I won't fail you, or your son," he said. He ran to take the wheel from David.

Killian brought the Jolly Roger as close to the Triton as he dared in the rough sea. David and Emma waited for their chance to assist.

It came a few short minutes later—they hurled their grappling hooks at the Triton, and they caught fast.

"Hang on!" Killian bellowed. The ships crashed together, their sides screaming and twisting. Emma and David threw more lines, which sank into the Triton's deck; they secured them fast and tight to the Jolly Roger.

David made the jump first; he rolled and hit the far side of the other ship. No one appeared to stop him. He raced back to where the ships were joined and extended a hand for Emma and Regina.

It wrenched at Emma to help Regina over to the Triton; she knew her strength was a façade, but there was no point in trying to dissuade her. She held Regina tight as a wave bucked both ships up, and on the descent David was able to pull her over. Emma jumped across at the next wave.

The Triton really did feel like a ghost ship; the deck creaked and groaned, ropes and nets swung back and forth with the rhythm of the sea. David motioned for them to stay put as he approached the wheelhouse. He crouched low under the windows and waited.

Nothing happened.

He stood slowly and peered inside. He turned back to them, confused. "It's empty," he said.

"I don't like the sound of that," Regina growled.

"Me neither," Emma said. She went back to where the boats were joined together; Killian was there as planned, maintaining the ropes. "She's hiding somewhere onboard," she told him. "Be careful; keep an eye out."

"Aye."

"We'll have to head below." She took in his disheveled appearance and said, "Should David stay with you?"

"Emma…" He finally met her eyes. "Do you think I'd ever let Henry down? Because if you do, then by all means, leave David to babysit me. But you'll be down a man when you find Alta. And if that makes the difference here…I couldn't live with myself. So you should just throw me in the sea right now."

She remembered the number of times she'd found solace in his arms, on his ship. She also recalled leaving Henry's life in his hands, more than once.

"We shouldn't be long," she finally said. "Please just be careful."

He saluted her.

…

The bowels of the Triton were lit intermittently with the tall pillar candles in lanterns. They swung back and forth with the movement of the ship, causing a disorienting pattern of darkness and light. Regina stepped carefully through the portal that led to the galley and tried to ignore the pain and stiffness in her arms.

 _Henry._

One of these dancing flames held her son captive, and she found herself gazing into each one they passed as if to offer reassurance. For all she knew, they all held souls.

The low ceilings and narrow walls of the vessel were making her skin crawl with apprehension. There was no room to fight, and with so many nooks and crannies they could walk right by Alta and never know it.

Emma and David were in the lead. The only sound around them was the creaking and settling of the ship.

Emma turned to her. "Do you sense anything?" she whispered.

Regina shook her head; she felt no magic.

The storm outside must have grown worse—they were all knocked off their feet as the Triton heaved upwards and came down with a crash. Two lanterns fell off of their hooks and crashed, glass scattering everywhere. To Regina's horror, the flames on the candles blew out; a sob escaped her throat.

Emma was at her side in an instant. "We can't give up. This whole place is lit with candles; she's doing this to torture us."

Regina nodded, then noticed blood on Emma's temple. She reached up. "You're hurt…"

Emma took her hand and kissed it. "I'm fine. We have to keep going."

David waved for them to come through the next portal, which led to crew quarters, all empty. "Where the hell is she," he muttered, hand on his holster.

In the next room there was a large hatch in the floor; David wrenched the wheel and pulled it open. Darkness below.

Emma swallowed. "Let's go."

"Hey." David clamped a hand on her arm. "We don't know what's waiting for us down there."

"Sure we do: she is. She's certainly not up here." She looked at Regina for agreement.

She nodded. "Let's go."

Emma insisted on climbing down the ladder first. Regina went next, and felt Emma's hands around her waist to help her at the bottom. Regina advanced in the darkness while Emma waited for David. As her eyes adjusted she took note of the pipes and machinery on either side of their narrow path; they were in the engine room.

She blinked to clear her vision of the faint glow at the far end of the room, but it remained. She reached back for Emma. "Do you see that?"

Emma squinted. "It's…it looks like a light."

"Around the door," David agreed. "There's light in the next room."

Regina's heart beat faster with trepidation. "She's in there." She braced herself on a pipe as another large wave rocked them. "She's waiting for us. No heroics," she said to David. "We have to take this very carefully."

When they reached the door, Regina took a breath and slowly pulled it open.

It was the fish hold. The faint light was coming from the five candles set on the table at the far end of the room.

Alta stood behind it. "You've made it."

Regina stepped carefully into the room; Emma followed to her right, David to her left. "We're here for Henry."

"He's here. He is not in any pain: my gift to you."

"Your _gift…"_ Regina growled. Emma's hand on her arm kept her from doing anything foolish.

"You're right. It is more of a gift for him. For all of them."

"Give him back," Emma said. As she took a step forward, Alta blew out one of the candles. Regina gasped and clamped a hand over the sudden panic in her chest.

"You'll stay where you are, please."

David held up his hands. "What do you want?"

Alta gazed at them sadly. "That doesn't matter. I can never have it. But I can spare your children pain at the hands of the Evil Queen."

The air left Regina's lungs. This was all about…her? "What?" she said, almost soundlessly.

Emma's voice trembled, but with sadness or rage Regina couldn't tell. "Regina didn't hurt those children. You did."

Alta blinked at her. "Sheriff Swan, that's just not true."

Regina felt the blood drain from her face as Alta continued. "The queen hurt all of them. She killed their parents, or separated them from their families. She killed her own son, and you brought the poor child back to life so she could do it again one day."

Regina slid slowly down the wall, suddenly too ill to stand. Her breathing grew shallow as her mind raced. Who was this woman? What had she done to her?

Alta shook her head. "And you also broke the curse, so those of us who had forgotten the pain we'd left behind in the Enchanted Forest could have our hearts broken all over again. Not everyone was missing a happy ending. Life doesn't work that way."

She blew out a second candle. Emma cried out but didn't dare take a step; instead, she fell to her knees. "Please," she begged. "Please. Don't take my son from me."

Alta sighed, as though she were sorry that Emma couldn't understand. "I'm doing what's best for _him_. The rest of you have been blinded."

Then she knew. Regina blinked at Alta through tears. "I killed your child."

Alta glared at her. "Katie. My mother, as well."

Regina closed her eyes. "What happened to her?"

"I'll never know." She pulled out the small black matchbox and put it on the table. "All of this power to spare others the pain…and I'll never know. I wasn't there for my own child." She straightened up and fixed them all with a glare. "She was sick. She froze to death searching for me after the Evil Queen had our village burned to the ground. I'll never know if she found any peace at the end, or knew only terror." She blew out another candle.

"Please," David shouted. "There must be something we can do. Anything. We…we can't make up for your loss. But there must be something we can do to bring you some peace."

"You still don't understand. I don't expect you to. It's about bringing them peace, not me."

The two remaining flames flickered as she spoke.

"Take me," Regina whispered, then louder: "Take me instead."

"I can't," Alta said patiently. "He is taken already. I can take you too, but not in his place."

Tears ran freely down Regina's face. All of her magic, and she was powerless before this woman, who would snuff out her son before Regina could utter a spell.

"Why lead us here?" Emma asked. "Why the games? Why the fires? Why do you hold them in candles instead of just blowing them out?"

Alta lifted the matchbox and slid it open. Regina's heart went into her throat; her time had surely come. "In the Enchanted Forest, all of the Evil Queen's laws boiled down to one: Do Not Assist Snow White, under penalty of death. She didn't like the child, so hundreds of people died."

None of them dared breathe as Alta held up a match; she locked eyes with Regina. "But now you say you do like her. You've raised her grandchild. You love her daughter. So now, the rest of us may live." She shook her head. "These poor children, who could live or die based on your whim. You ask me why the games, Sheriff Swan? Because you fools don't deserve the serenity I can give; you deserve the terror of uncertainty."

Regina braced herself for her end as Alta struck the match. When the Match Woman looked her in the eye, the name that whispered past her lips was:

"Alta."

"No!" Emma cried.

Alta's body dropped, lifeless, to the floor of the fish hold. The match she'd been holding fell with her and was extinguished.


	13. Chapter 13

"My name's Henry. I'm your son."

Her son?

She didn't have a son. She only had a past that she had done her best to forget. But now her past was in her apartment, drinking her juice, acting like nothing was wrong.

Everything was wrong. Her heart, long thought healed (or at least healing), had been torn open again.

It had started to unravel with her birthday wish to not be alone. She had made the wish and blown out her candle.

The candles.

Two of them were before her now.

Mustn't blow out either; her heart was trapped in one.

…..

He was crying.

It woke her in the dead of night, a nightmare come to life; someone was hurting her son. She leapt from her bed and ran barefoot to his bedroom.

He was standing in his crib, a well-loved stuffed duck clutched tightly in his small hands. When he saw her, his cries intensified. He reached for her.

"Oh, my love," she soothed. "My little prince. What is it?" She lifted him and kissed his tears, relieved to find he was not in peril, only having a bad dream himself.

He stuffed his face in her shoulder and wailed; she rubbed his back, slow circles, and settled in the rocking chair. She grabbed the quilt from the top of the toy chest and wrapped it around them both.

He was taking hiccupping breaths now. She kissed his hair and hummed a lullaby as she rocked him. His head fell against her breast as he listened, and his little fingers played with a button on her pajamas.

Soon, the humming and the rocking had her child back to sleep again, but she was in no rush to let him go.

She kept rocking.

…..

"I…I think," David began, "that we should find lanterns, so we can take both of these candles back to the Jolly Roger."

Emma found her voice first. "Yes. Okay."

There's still a chance, she told herself. You don't know how this magic works. Don't lose hope. "Okay," she repeated.

Regina hadn't moved from where she was sitting on the floor. Emma crouched down in front of her. "Regina," she whispered. "Regina?"

She blinked as though seeing Emma for the first time.

"We're going to get lanterns. Will you stay with…with…" She couldn't bring herself to say his name.

Regina nodded.

Another wave rocked the ship, throwing Regina into Emma and both of them to the floor.

The candles started to fall—David made it across the room in time to catch them and keep them upright.

Emma felt Regina shaking in her arms; when she looked down, Regina's hands were glowing. "David…"

He saw it too. "Um…why don't you stay here. I'll find the lanterns." He placed the candles on the floor, then ran.

"Regina…it's okay. He's all right."

"That's not true. He…he might already be lost."

"We can't think like that-"

"Alta's dead. Even if he's still in a candle…how do we get him out? And what if…what if he died with her?"

Emma shook her. "Stop it! Just stop it. We can't give up. He's not dead." Her voice cracked. She took a deep, steadying breath; they couldn't fall apart. She had to be strong for them both. "Regina, he's our son. We would know."

She leaned forward and kissed Regina, trying to calm her, to offer any kind of comfort. She could feel the hum of pent-up magic under her lover's skin. "Hey," she said gently. "What about a containment spell? Would it help protect the flames?"

Regina looked so lost. "I don't know. I'm afraid to try anything." She clenched her fists. "I don't know how Alta's magic protects them, or what it needs to work. I could end up doing more harm than good."

Emma placed a hand on her cheek. "All right. Then we'll just have to keep them burning."

David came back in with two lanterns and handed one to Emma. "We've got another problem: the Triton's taking on water. We've got to get out and separate the ships."

"What? It's a fishing boat, it's built for this weather. How…" Emma remembered Regina's words from earlier: _It's a suicide mission for her._ Alta must have done something to the ship. Emma gritted her teeth. "Okay."

They each secured a candle in a lantern and started back through the bowels of the ship. As they passed back through the galley, Regina put a hand on her arm, stopping her. "We have to take all of the candles," she said.

"Regina, Henry's in one of these."

"But we don't know that he is. With Alta's games…we can't know for sure. This is exactly what she wanted."

Emma stared at the lit candles swinging back and forth in the galley and thought of the others that must be throughout the ship. She felt ill; Regina was right. What if they got back to land only to find that it had all just been an elaborate, cruel trick? That they could have saved their son…if only they'd had the right candle? They had to know that they'd done everything they could. "How do we even…how can we get them all?"

"David takes these two, gets them back to the Jolly Roger and secures them. You and I gather the rest…" Regina paused and gazed around the room, at the multiple shelves and nooks. "Here. And then we take them over."

Emma looked pained. "That's going to take a lot of time."

"It can't."

She took Regina's hands. "It _will."_

David reappeared in the galley. "What's going on? We have to go!"

Emma handed her father the lantern she carried. "You and Killian keep these safe. Regina and I are going to gather as many candles as we can, in case Alta didn't actually put Henry in these."

Realization dawned on David's face. "Oh god. But there are twenty or thirty more of them, at least."

"We'll get them," Regina said.

"And then what?" David asked. "How are you going to move thirty lit candles to another ship in the middle of a storm?"

"Magic." Emma looked at the fear in Regina's eyes and said, "You'll have to. It won't be a containment spell, you'll just be moving them."

"But…"

"Do you really think there's another way, Regina?"

She didn't answer; the ship lurched again and the three of them grabbed shelves to stay upright. Emma faced her father. "You have to go. Have Killian clear a large space below decks; that's where we'll appear."

"Emma…"

"Dad, go. We'll be there."

David gave a sharp nod and headed out.

Emma ran to Regina and wrapped her arms around her. "I know you're scared. I'm terrified. But you have to trust yourself and your magic. I trust you. We have to take this chance—we have to do everything we can." She kissed her, hard. "I love you, Regina."

Regina pressed her forehead to hers. "I love you too."

It only took ten minutes; there were only twelve candles still lit throughout the vessel, the last one recovered in a room with water already knee-deep and freezing. Emma gripped the lantern tightly and sloshed back to the ladder, hardly feeling the cold through her nerves. "That's it."

Regina nodded. They cleared the steel table from the center of the galley and arranged the lanterns tightly together on the floor; they sat on either side and held hands. Regina took a shaky breath. "Ready?"

"Let's go." Emma gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

The purple mist engulfed them; for a moment, Emma felt weightless as the floor of the Triton vanished from beneath her and was replaced by the sturdy planks of the Jolly Roger. She didn't realize she'd closed her eyes until she opened them with a gasp.

"They're here!" she heard her father shout. "Cut the ropes!"

A quiet sob came from Regina. Emma squeezed her hand tighter. "What is it?"

Regina was shaking her head. "We lost one."

Emma looked down. Eleven candles still lit. One candle tipped on its side, extinguished. She pushed down her fear and said, "Let's take care of the rest."

…

Above decks, Hook and David had succeeded in chopping through the lines connecting the two ships; now they were hoping the Jolly Roger could be steered away from the sinking ship without incurring too much damage. Regina pulled her jacket tightly around herself and walked through the stinging rain to the back of the ship. In the darkness she could just make out the hulk of the Triton, now listing to one side.

She had killed so many people in her darkest days. Older now, with a real family, she could see what she couldn't then: that there was no defense for her actions. None. She was in the wrong, and if someone killed her for it one day, they would be completely justified.

Some could argue they were very much alike, Alta and the Evil Queen.

Regina would have no rebuttal.

Still, she took satisfaction now in watching the Triton vanish below the waves with Alta in its belly. Her cursed matches, too.

Without realizing it, Regina had created a fireball in her hand. Darkness clouded her face as she launched it at the wreckage; it caught with a satisfying pop, but then in the storm it became more smoke than fire.

She felt a hand on her shoulder: Emma.

Her touch took some of the darkness away.

Regina followed her below, where they continued to watch over the candles and pray they would figure out what to do.

…..

It took over an hour to get back to Storybrooke; Killian had to keep adjusting their course as they got blown about. But now the town lights were visible, and David called down to Emma.

"What is it?"

He thundered down the stairs; his phone was in his hand. "We're back in cell phone range. I've got voicemails and texts from your mother."

The breath caught in Emma's throat. "Dad…"

His eyes were wet with unshed tears. "Henry's awake."

"He's…" Regina stood. "What did you say?"

David grabbed Emma's shoulders. "He's awake. He's fine."

Suddenly his hands were empty; a purple mist had taken Emma and Regina away.

…

"Mom! Mom!"

Regina reached him first and almost lifted him out of the hospital bed.

When Emma realized where she was, and that she was not, in fact, dreaming, she was right behind her; she held them both close as they wept with relief. "Henry…how…?"

Regina was shaking her head. "Alta's magic…she may not have fully understood it herself." She held his face in her hands and stared at him as though for the first time. "When she lit her own match…it must have undone the magic she hadn't completed, Henry and—" She broke off and looked at Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret nodded. "And Roland. He's awake too."

Regina closed her eyes and enveloped Henry once again; Emma kept a hand on her back, still slightly stunned that her son was completely fine. "It's really over," she murmured.

"Can we go home now?" Henry asked, his voice muffled by Regina's arms.

His mothers exchanged a worried look, because of course they had no home at the moment. Emma raced through the options in her mind. Ruby had said there were more apartments available, but they hadn't even assessed the damage to the mansion to know how long they'd be displaced…

"Emma," Mary Margaret said gently.

Emma cleared her throat. "Not just yet, kid. But…"

"Emma," her mother said, a little more insistently. "A word, please?"

They stepped into the hall; Emma frowned. "What's the matter?"

Mary Margaret took her hands. "Nothing. I want you to stay with us."

Emma was taken aback. "Mom…"

"What is it?"

She dropped Mary Margaret's hands; her mother looked confused. "I can't do that, it's not right. I have to stay with Regina and Henry. How can you ask me that?"

Mary Margaret sighed. "Emma…"

"Mom, I thought…" her face flushed slightly. "I thought you understood, what Regina and I…what we mean to each other now."

Her mother crossed her arms. "Emma, the invitation was for all of you. I want _all_ of you to stay with us."

For at least the third time that day, Emma found herself at a loss for words. Fortunately, her mother was prepared. "In less than twelve hours, Regina has been in a fire, in the hospital, and fighting on a ship in a storm. Henry woke up terrified because he'd been in a _candle,_ watching you face off with that woman and unable to tell you he was there. You've all feared for each other's lives." Mary Margaret took Emma's hands once again. "You all need to come _home,_ not just some place with a bed and a roof. You need to know you're safe, and loved." She squeezed Emma's hands. "And _supported."_

Emma found her voice. "…Mom, I…."

"Oh, and it's not so much an invitation as much as it is an order. I texted David; he's going to come pick us up. We should all fit in the truck." She leaned in and kissed Emma's cheek. "I'll go check at the desk to see if there's any paperwork we need to take care of."

Mary Margaret went down the hall, leaving Emma thunderstruck. She went back into Henry's room; Regina met her with worry in her eyes.

"Emma," she whispered. "Where are we going to go?"

Emma wrapped her arms around Regina's waist and kissed her; she tucked a dark lock of hair behind her ear.

"We're going home."

…

Regina slept for two days. It was thirst that finally woke her. She blinked at the unfamiliar surroundings, the low ceilings, and the digital clock that read 6:15. She had no idea if it was morning or evening. She pulled off the blanket with some effort and frowned at what she was wearing; flannel pants and a loose tank top. Emma's pajamas. She was in the loft, that was right. She had a vague memory of arriving, and arguing over who would take the couch, her or Henry; she'd lost that fight pretty quickly. She noticed the scars on her arms; her magic had healed some, but not yet all of her injuries.

She groaned as she stood up and made her way downstairs. She padded into the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and took a long drink before setting it on the counter with a heavy sigh. It was only then that she noticed Mary Margaret nursing baby Neal on her bed; Regina jumped.

"I'm sorry," Mary Margaret said, "I wasn't sure how not to startle you."

"Where is everyone?"

"David took Emma and Henry to dinner at Granny's. We've been trying to keep the house quiet for you."

Regina sniffed. "That's ridiculous. Six people live here." She automatically went to wrap her robe around her before remembering she wasn't wearing one. "Well, five and a half."

Mary Margaret smiled. "Would you like to hold him?"

Regina carried her glass of water over to the bed, where she perched just out of reach. "I don't want to hurt him. Besides, he looks busy."

"Why would you hurt him?"

She took another long drink. "Because I can't remember the last time I ate. Because even this water glass feels heavy right now."

Mary Margaret nodded, and they both watched the littlest Charming eat in silence.

"I don't remember Henry ever being that small," Regina said quietly. "He was just that little bit older when he came to me." She looked around the Charmings' home, at the family photos and knitted blankets, at how small and snug it all was. "I can't stay here, Mary Margaret."

"What? Why not? Where are you going to go?"

"I'll find a suitable place."

Mary Margaret held Neal to her shoulder and patted his back. "And are you intending to take Emma and Henry with you, or vanish alone into this dark depression?"

Regina glowered at her. "That's not what I'm doing."

"Really?" Little Neal hiccurped right onto his mother's shirt; she sighed and handed Regina a clean cloth. "Put this anywhere you don't want spit-up. You're taking the baby."

"No I'm not."

"He'll cry in his crib, and I need to change my shirt. Here." Mary Margaret essentially dropped him in her arms; Regina instinctively held him close.

"Take him back."

"You're fine." She pulled off her old shirt and slipped quickly into a new one. "Sit back against the headboard and relax, Regina. He's not a bomb."

Her tears started to fall; baby Neal looked up at her with curiosity. She closed her eyes and cried silently as he grasped one of her fingers and played with it.

She must have sat with him for some time, because the next thing she knew Mary Margaret was setting a bowl of soup on the bedside table for her. She sat next to Regina on the bed and gently took the now-sleeping Neal from her arms. "You need to eat."

Regina didn't argue. The soup was mostly broth, and every warm spoonful seemed to restore some strength; she gave a shuddering sigh. "Why are you so kind to me? I'm no different than her. I shouldn't be here, Snow."

Mary Margaret's brow furrowed at the use of her other name.

Regina wouldn't look at her. "You were the first child I ever hurt."

"Regina, you can't think like that."

"Then I tried to hurt Emma; I did everything I could think of to destroy you both." She set her spoon back in her bowl and placed the bowl on the side table. "And I killed my own child in the process; who knows how many others." She felt numb; the words came out emotionless, flat. They were facts.

"Henry is alive!"

Regina did finally meet her eyes. "No thanks to me. Even Alta didn't kill her own child."

Regina gasped; Mary Margaret had gripped her arm like a vice. "Stop it, Regina. We're not going back there, not ever. Our families have a long history of despair and betrayal, but you're quick to forget that when I first met you, you were a hero. You saved my life. And I know that you would die for Emma, and for Henry." She released her arm; Regina cradled it as Mary Margaret continued. "We have to keep going forward. There are some sins we'll pay for for the rest of our lives, but we can't make it worse by asking others to pay for them too. Emma and Henry…they love you, Regina. They need to know you'll be there for them. Running away from them doesn't do them any favors. It will break their hearts." Mary Margaret glared at her. "And I won't have you breaking my daughter's heart."

Regina blushed furiously. "I didn't mean to fall for her."

The other woman gave a short laugh. "Well, that's clear." She raised an eyebrow at Regina and sighed. "You know what I think? I think that we were meant to be a family. Just not in the way we expected." Mary Margaret looked down at the baby, still asleep in her arms. "You do belong here with us; please don't leave."

Regina tucked her arms around herself. "All right."

"Thank you. Do you want more to eat?"

Regina shook her head; she'd already expended more energy than she had in days. Her body felt too heavy again…though her heart was a little lighter. "I'm going back to bed." She hesitated, then placed a hand on Neal's head, stroking his thin hair with her thumb; he gurgled in his sleep. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Regina."

….

"You don't have to come in here."

Henry cocked an eyebrow at her. "Is that your way of saying you don't want me to go in?"

Emma paused, her key still in the lock. "Kind of."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "It's okay, I promise. We're all okay, so it's not going to bother me."

She stared up at the mansion; half of it was wrapped in plastic sheeting. They hadn't been in it since the fire. She shuddered. "Well, I think it's going to bother me." She turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open.

The house felt empty, merely a shell without the force of its tenants. Every item was right where it had been left, though the walls and ceiling were scarred with grey and black smoke in most places, even in those rooms untouched by the fire itself. It gave Emma the creeps.

She held out a hand to Henry. "Upstairs is off-limits. So is the study."

"I know."

Emma had hoped they would find some things they could take back to the loft with them, but in reality most of their personal items had been in the bedrooms. Henry went off to search the living room, while Emma went into the kitchen.

To her immense relief, the kitchen was relatively unharmed.

Emma ran a hand along the doorframe where Regina had first kissed her, the island where they'd shared countless glasses of wine…she leaned against the counter where she'd started to undress her lover for the first time, consumed with the need to touch her and be touched by her.

It was the third day in a row that Regina had slept through. Mary Margaret assured her that Regina had awoken the day before and even had something to eat, but Emma was getting really worried. She knew Regina wanted nothing to do with the hospital, but she wondered if they were wrong not to bring her there anyway. Emma assured Henry that his mother was recovering as expected considering the ordeal she went through, but…

But.

Emma had held her closer than ever each night, whispering words of love and support into raven hair. Verbal replies were rare, but Regina would often squeeze her hand to reassure her that she was still there.

Alta may have gone mad, but she was no fool—she knew exactly the words to say to Regina to devastate her completely. Magic and time would heal her physical scars, but Emma worried very much about her mind.

Henry appeared in the kitchen, comic books and a DVD in hand. "I guess we could take these."

"What movie is that?"

"Beetlejuice."

She smiled at him. "Good choice."

"Did you find anything?"

"I haven't really looked yet," she admitted. "It's strange to be in here without your mom."

"But…we'll be back here eventually, won't we? All of us?"

She nodded. "That's the plan. First things first, though: the house has to be rebuilt. And Regina needs to get better."

Henry sat on one of the stools. "I didn't know being sad could make someone so sick."

Emma felt her heart clench; their son was too smart for his own good, truly. "Oh, Henry…she's mostly just exhausted."

He was thumbing the edge of his comic books and chewing his lip. "When bad things have happened before, Mom would just kind of hide, you know? So no one could see she was upset. But this time…I don't know, it's weird. Like she's not even okay enough to hide, so she's just sleeping. I'm really worried about her."

Emma held him and kissed the top of his head. "I am too, kid."

….

That night Regina rolled over and Emma wasn't there; she blinked the sleep from her eyes and sat up, disoriented. She squinted at the clock—it was just after three in the morning. Regina rolled back over and checked her phone. No messages.

She reached under the bed and pulled on her shoes, then reached for a sweatshirt that smelled like Emma. She tiptoed down the loft stairs; the rest of the house was sleeping soundly, even little Neal. Regina whispered a spell so the old door hinges wouldn't creak and let herself out of the apartment. She called Emma's cell, but it went straight to voicemail. She texted her; no answer. But their car wasn't out front—she had to have taken it somewhere. Regina took a deep breath and used magic to take herself to the mansion, but no one was there; just the shell of the home they'd once built. Regina bit her lip and vanished again, to the town line…but there was no sign of anyone there, either. The cloud of purple smoke took Regina back to Main Street, and also took a lot of her strength; she paused to collect herself, and then just started walking. Emma was somewhere. She could feel it.

She could also feel the cold, and was starting to wish she'd worn warmer clothes, but it didn't matter. She wasn't going back to the loft until she found Emma. She tried calling again; this time it rang twice before going to voicemail. Regina frowned. _I'm out looking for you,_ she texted.

The response was swift but brief. _City Hall._

Regina closed her eyes and used magic one more time; she winced as the smoke disappeared.

She found Emma around back, sitting on the ground with her back against the trunk of Regina's apple tree; Regina slowed her approach, uncertain of what was going on. Emma held an apple in her hand.

"Are…are you all right?" Regina asked, her voice quiet.

Emma's eyes burned holes in her. "No, I'm not. My son has been traumatized. My…my…" she gestured to Regina. "My _partner_ has been traumatized. And I am so used to relying on one of them to help me fix the other that…" Emma closed her eyes. "That I don't know what to do."

Regina went to her and held her in her arms; they sat under the tree, Emma's head on Regina's chest, and Regina's arms wrapped protectively around her, until Emma's tears finally came. Tears turned to sobs, and Regina's heart ached for her lover, for the pain and fear she had been keeping inside while taking care of her family. When the sobs started to ebb, Regina ran a hand through beautiful blonde hair and whispered, "I'm so sorry, Emma."

Emma sniffed and wiped her eyes. "No, I am. You didn't need to see that, you need to rest…"

Regina held her tighter. "I broke my promise to you."

"What promise?"

Regina swallowed; she kissed the top of Emma's head. "The first one that we made to each other a long time ago. Before all of…everything. When we told each other our fears, and you were afraid that my fears would make me vanish. I promised you I wouldn't do that, but these last few days…I vanished, and I'm so sorry, Emma."

Emma sat up to look at her. "No, Regina, that's different. You were hurt and you needed to heal."

"No more than Henry. No more than you."

Emma took her hands and squeezed them. "Yes more than me, Regina. If you'd seen me upset, you wouldn't have slept. You wouldn't have gotten better. I'm sorry that I worried you tonight; you shouldn't even be out here, you're freezing. You need to get back to bed."

"Emma," Regina said, her voice sharp. Emma stilled. "You can't take care of me by pretending everything is ok. I need to know when you need me."

"You've been depressed…"

"So have you."

Emma bit her lip, and looked like she was trying to formulate a response. Regina didn't let her; she cupped her face in her hands and kissed her. Emma's arms came up to wrap around her neck; when they came up for air, Regina pressed her forehead to hers and sighed.

"But I feel so selfish," Emma whispered.

"Why?"

She felt Emma's fingers playing with the ends of her hair. "Because I need you, Regina. I really, really need you."

Regina shook her head, a soft smile on her lips. "Well then we're both selfish. I need you too."

Emma kissed her, and it wasn't long before hands had gone from touching and stroking over clothes to wandering and exploring beneath them; with a gasp Regina suggested they go inside, at least.

They managed to make their way to the couch in her office before shirts were discarded completely. They hungered for more, craved more, and the rest of their clothes quickly followed suit. Emma was on top of her, and inside of her, and Regina kept crying out in pleasure which only increased Emma's determination to give her what she wanted.

Needed.

But Regina was able to stroke and tease her sheriff to distraction; and now with the upper hand, so to speak, she soon had her lover calling out her name.

How beautiful it sounded on her lips.

And afterwards, in each other's arms, they gave each other the strength that comes from promises renewed. In those kisses, in those touches, were love and relief, determination and vulnerability, and the assurance…

…the fierce assurance…

…that neither would ever let go.

xxxxxxx

AN: Thank you all so much. It's been so great to hear your thoughts on this one and to know it found an audience. Thank you for reading:)


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